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<: 


THE    BOOK 


GENESIS. 


BY 

MARCUS    "iboDS,     D.D., 

AUTHOR  OF  "Israel's  iron  age,"  "the  tafables  of  our  lord,' 
"the  praver  that  teaches  to  pray,"  etc 


O  >C'P  o  ^  \-Vo  S~5  "S>  \ 


? 


^&i!l^^^ 


NEW   YORK: 

A.    C.    ARMSTRONG    AND    SON 

714,  EROADWAY. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGH 

THE    CREATION       ---------I 


CHAPTER   II. 
THE  FALL      -»--------I5 

CHAPTER   III. 
CAIN   AND  ABEL     ---------28 

CHAPTER   IV. 
CAIN'S   line,   and   ENOCH       -------42 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE   FLOOD  .__------      $5 

CHAPTER  VI. 
noah's  fall        .--------68 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE   CALL  OF  ABRAHAM 


8l 


vi  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

PAGE 

ABRAM   IN   EGYPT  ____.-_-     96 


CHAPTER   IX. 

lot's   separation    from   ABRAM  -  -  -  -  -    I08 

CHAPTER   X. 
ABRAM'S   rescue   of   lot       -  -  -  -  -  -  -121 

CHAPTER  XI. 

covenant  with   ABRAM         -  -  -  -  -  -  -134 

CHAPTER  XII. 

BIRTH   OF   ISHMAEL         --------    147 

CHAPTER   Xin. 
THE   COVENANT   SEALED  -  -  -  -  -  -  -159 

CHAPTER   XIV. 
Abraham's  intercession  for  sodom         -       -        -        -  172 

CHAPTER   XV. 

DESTRUCTION    OF   THE   CITIES    OF   THE   PLAIN  -  -  -    l£6 

CHAPTER   XVI. 
SACRIFICE   OF   ISAAC      -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -1 98 


CONTENTS.  vii 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

PAGE 

V^ISHMAEL  AND  ISAAC      -------r2I2 


CHAPTER   XVIII, 
PURCHASE  OF  MACHPELAH   -------   226 

CHAPTER   XIX, 
/  Isaac's  marriage       --------  240 

CHAPTER  XX. 

V/  ESAU  AND   JACOB  --------  254 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
y  JACOB'S  FRAUD     ---------  267 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
i/jacob's  flight  and  dream        ------  279 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 
V   JACOB  AT  PENIEL  --------  293 

CHAPTER  XXIV, 
>'  Jacob's  return  ---------  307 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
i/   Joseph's  dreams        -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -321 


viii  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

/  PAGE 

i/ JOSEPH   IN   PRISON  -----.__  330 


CHAPTER   XXVII, 
^     PHARAOHS   DREAMS       -  -  -  -  .  -  .  "355 

CHAPTER   XXVIII. 
^   JOSEPH'S  ADMINISTRATION     -----_.   369 

CHAPTER   XXIX. 
■■^  VISITS   OF   JOSEPH'S   BRETHREN      ------   383 

CHAPTER   XXX. 
^     THE   RECONCILIATION  ----..-  396 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 
THE  BLESSINGS   OF  THE   TRIBES    -  -  -  -  .  -415 


/ 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE    CREATION, 
Genesis  i.  andii, 

IF  any  one  is  in  search  of  accurate  information 
regarding  the  age  of  this  earth,  or  its  relation  to 
the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  or  regarding  the  order  in 
which  plants  and  animals  have  appeared  upon  it,  he  is 
referred  to  recent  text-books  in  astronomy,  geology, 
and  palaeontology.  No  one  for  a  moment  dreams  of 
referring  a  serious  student  of  these  subjects  to  the 
Bible  as  a  source  of  information.  It  is  not  the  object 
of  the  writers  of  Scripture  to  impart  physical  instruction 
or  to  enlarge  the  bounds  of  scientific  knowledge.  But 
if  any  one  wishes  to  know  what  connection  the  world 
has  with  God,  if  he  seeks  to  trace  back  all  that  now  is 
to  the  very  fountain-head  of  life,  if  he  desires  to  discover 
some  unifying  principle,  some  illuminating  purpose  in 
the  history  of  this  earth,  then  we  confidently  refer  him 
to  these  and  the  subsequent  chapters  of  Scripture  as  his 
safest,  and  indeed  his  only,  guide  to  the  information 
he  seeks.  Every  writing  must  be  judged  by  the  object 
the  writer  has  in  view.  If  the  object  of  the  writer 
of  these  chapters  was  to  convey  physical  information, 
then  certainly  it  is  imperfectly  fulfilled.  But  if  his 
object   was   to   give   an   intelligible  account  of  God's 

I 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


relation  to  the  world  and  to  man,  then  it  must  be 
owned  that  he  has  been  successful  in  the  highest 
degree. 

It  is  therefore  unreasonable  to  allow  our  reverence 
for  this  writing  to  be  lessened  because  it  does  not 
anticipate  the  discoveries  of  physical  science ;  or  to 
repudiate  its  authority  in  its  own  department  of  truth 
because  it  does  not  give  us  information  which  it  formed 
no  part  of  the  writer's  object  to  give.  As  well  might 
we  deny  to  Shakespeare  a  masterly  knowledge  of 
human  life,  because  his  dramas  are  blotted  by  historical 
anachronisms.  That  the  compiler  of  this  book  of 
Genesis  did  not  aim  at  scientific  accuracy  in  speaking 
of  physical  details  is  obvious,  not  merely  from  the 
general  scope  and  purpose  of  the  Biblical  writers,  but 
especially  from  this,  that  in  these  first  two  chapters  of 
his  book  he  lays  side  by  side  two  accounts  of  man's 
creation  which  no  ingenuity  can  reconcile.  These  two 
accounts,  glaringly  incompatible  in  details,  but  abso- 
lutely harmonious  in  their  leading  ideas,  at  once  warn 
the  reader  that  the  writer's  aim  is  rather  to  convey 
certain  ideas  regarding  man's  spiritual  history  and  his 
connection  with  God,  than  to  describe  the  process  of 
creation.  He  does  describe  the  process  of  creation, 
but  he  describes  it  only  for  the  sake  of  the  ideas 
regarding  man's  relation  to  God  and  God's  relation  to 
the  world  which  he  can  thereby  convey.  Indeed  what 
we  mean  by  scientific  knowledge  was  not  in  all  the 
thoughts  of  the  people  for  whom  this  book  was  written. 
The  subject  of  creation,  of  the  beginning  of  man  upon 
earth,  was  not  approached  from  that  side  at  all ;  and  if 
we  are  to  understand  what  is  here  written  we  must 
burst  the  trammels  of  our  own  modes  of  thought  and 
read  these  chapters  not  as  a  chronological,  astronomical, 


Gen.  i.,ii.]  THE   CREATION. 


geological,  biological  statement,  but  as  a  moral  or 
spiritual  conception. 

It  will,  however,  be  said,  and  with  much  appearance 
of  justice,  that  although  the  first  object  of  the  writer 
was  not  to  convey  scientific  information,  yet  he  might 
have  been  expected  to  he  accurate  in  the  information 
he  did  advance  regarding  the  physical  universe.  This 
is  an  enormous  assumption  to  make  on  a  priori  grounds, 
but  it  is  an  assumption  worth  seriously  considering 
because  it  brings  into  view  a  real  and  important 
difficulty  which  every  reader  of  Genesis  must  face.  It 
brings  into  view  the  twofold  character  of  this  account 
of  creation.  On  the  one  hand  it  is  irreconcilable  with 
the  teachings  of  science.  On  the  other  hand  it  is  in 
striking  contrast  to  the  other  cosmogonies  which  have 
been  harded  down  from  pre-scientific  ages.  These 
are  the  two  patent  features  of  this  record  of  creation 
and  both  require  to  be  accounted  for.  Either  feature 
alone  would  be  easily  accounted  for ;  but  the  two 
co-existing  in  the  same  document  are  more  baffling. 
We  have  to  account  at  once  for  a  want  of  perfect 
coincidence  with  the  teachings  of  science,  and  for  a 
singular  freedom  from  those  errors  which  disfigure  all 
other  primitive  accounts  of  the  creation  of  the  world. 
The  one  feature  of  the  document  is  as  patent  as  the 
other  and  presses  equally  for  explanation. 

Now  many  persons  cut  the  knot  by  simply  denying 
that  both  these  features  exist.  There  is  no  disagree- 
ment with  science,  they  say.  I  speak  for  many  careful 
enquirers  when  I  say  that  this  cannot  serve  as  a 
solution  of  the  difficulty.  I  think  it  is  to  be  freely 
admitted  that,  from  whatever  cause  and  however 
justifiably,  the  account  of  creation  here  given  is  not 
in  strict  and  detailed  accordance  with  the  teaching  of 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


science.  All  attempts  to  force  its  statements  into  such 
accord  are  futile  and  mischievous.  They  are  futile 
because  they  do  not  convince  independent  enquirers, 
but  only  those  who  are  unduly  anxious  to  be  convinced. 
And  they  are  mischievous  because  they  unduly  prolong 
the  strife  between  Scripture  and  science,  putting  the 
question  on  a  false  issue.  And  above  all,  they  are  to 
be  condemned  because  they  do  violence  to  Scripture, 
foster  a  style  of  interpretation  by  which  the  text  is 
forced  to  say  whatever  the  interpreter  desires,  and 
prevent  us  from  recognising  the  real  nature  of  these 
sacred  writings.  The  Bible  needs  no  defence  such  as 
false  constructions  of  its  language  bring  to  its  aid. 
They  are  its  worst  friends  who  distort  its  words  that 
they  may  yield  a  meaning  more  in  accordance  with 
scientific  truth.  If,  for  example,  the  word  'day'  in 
these  chapters,  does  not  mean  a  period  of  twenty-four 
hours,  the  interpretation  of  Scripture  is  hopeless. 
Indeed  if  we  are  to  bring  these  chapters  into  any 
comparison  at  all  with  science,  we  find  at  once  various 
discrepancies.  Of  a  creation  of  sun,  moon,  and  stars, 
subsequent  to  the  creation  of  this  earth,  science  can 
have  but  one  thing  to  say.  Of  the  existence  of  fruit 
trees  prior  to  the  existence  of  the  sun,  science  knows 
nothing.  But  for  a  candid  and  unsophisticated  reader 
without  a  special  theory  to  maintain,  details  are 
needless. 

Accepting  this  chapter  then  as  it  stands,  and  believing 
that  only  by  looking  at  the  Bible  as  it  actually  is  can  we 
hope  to  understand  God's  method  of  revealing  Himself, 
we  at  once  perceive  that  ignorance  of  some  departments 
of  truth  does  not  disqualify  a  man  for  knowing  and 
imparting  truth  about  God.  In  order  to  be  a  medium 
of  revela'ion  a  man  does  not  need  to  be  in  advance  of 


Gen.  i.,ii.]  THE   CREATION.  5 

his  age  in  secular  learning.  Intimate  communion  with 
God,  a  spirit  trained  to  discern  spiritual  things,  a  per- 
fect understanding  of  and  zeal  for  God's  purpose,  these 
are  qualities  quite  independent  of  a  knowledge  of  the 
discoveries  of  science.  The  enlightenment  which  en- 
ables men  to  apprehend  God  and  spiritual  truth,  has 
no  necessary  connection  with  scientific  attainments. 
David's  confidence  in  God  and  his  declarations  of 
His  faithfulness  are  none  the  less  valuable,  because 
he  was  ignorant  of  a  very  great  deal  which  every 
school-boy  now  knows.  Had  inspired  men  intro- 
duced into  their  writings  information  which  anticipated 
the  discoveries  of  science,  their  state  of  mind  would  be 
inconceivable,  and  revelation  would  be  a  source  of 
confusion.  God's  methods  are  harmonious  with  one 
another,  and  as  He  has  given  men  natural  faculties  to 
acquire  scientific  knowledge  and  historical  information, 
He  did  not  stultify  this  gift  by  imparting  such  know- 
ledge in  a  miraculous  and  unintelligible  manner.  There 
is  no  evidence  that  inspired  men  were  in  advance  of 
their  age  in  the  knowledge  of  physical  facts  and  laws. 
And  plainly,  had  they  been  supernaturally  instructed  in 
physical  knowledge  they  would  so  far  have  been  unin- 
telligible to  those  to  whom  they  spoke.  Had  the  writer 
of  this  book  mingled  with  his  teaching  regarding  God, 
an  explicit  and  exact  account  of  how  this  world  came 
into  existence — had  he  spoken  of  millions  of  years  in- 
stead of  speaking  of  days — in  all  probability  he  would 
have  been  discredited,  and  what  he  had  to  say  about 
God  would  have  been  rejected  along  with  his  premature 
science.  But  speaking  from  the  point  of  view  of  his 
contemporaries,  and  accepting  the  current  ideas  regard- 
ing the  formation  of  the  world,  he  attached  to  these  the 
views  regarding  God's  connection  with  the  world  which 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


are  most  necessary  to  be  believed.  What  he  had 
learned  of  God's  unity  and  creative  power  and  connec- 
tion with  man,  by  the  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
he  imparts  to  his  contemporaries  through  the  vehicle  of 
an  account  of  creation  they  could  all  understand.  It  is 
not  in  his  knowledge  of  physical  facts  that  he  is  elevated 
above  his  contemporaries,  but  in  his  knowledge  of  God's 
connection  with  all  physical  facts.  No  doubt,  on  the 
other  hand,  his  knowledge  of  God  reacts  upon  the  entire 
contents  of  his  mind  and  saves  him  from  presenting 
such  accounts  of  creation  as  have  been  common  among 
polytheists.  He  presents  an  account  purified  by  his 
conception  of  what  was  worthy  of  the  supreme  God 
he  worshipped.  His  idea  of  God  has  given  dignity 
and  simplicity  to  all  he  says  about  creation,  and  there 
is  an  elevation  and  majesty  about  the  whole  conception, 
which  we  recognise  as  the  reflex  of  his  conception  of 
God. 

Here  then  instead  of  anything  to  discompose  us  or  to 
excite  unbelief,  we  recognise  one  great  law  or  principle 
on  which  God  proceeds  in  making  Himself  known  to 
men.  This  has  been  called  the  Law  of  Accommoda- 
tion. It  is  the  law  which  requires  that  the  condition 
and  capacity  of  those  to  whom  the  revelation  is  made 
must  be  considered.  If  you  wish  to  instruct  a  child, 
you  must  speak  in  language  the  child  can  understand. 
If  you  wish  to  elevate  a  savage,  you  must  do  it  by 
degrees,  accommodating  yourself  to  his  condition, 
and  winking  at  much  ignorance  while  you  instil  elemen- 
tary knowledge.  You  must  found  all  you  teach  on 
what  is  already  understood  by  your  pupil,  and  through 
that  you  must  convey  further  knowledge  and  train  his 
faculties  to  higher  capacity.  So  was  it  with  God's 
revelation.     The  Jews  were  children  who  had  to  be 


Gen.  i.,u.]  THE   CREATION: 


trained  with  what  Paul  somewhat  contemptuously  calls 
"  weak  and  beggarly  elements,-"  the  A  B  C  of  morals 
and  religion.  Not  even  in  morals  could  the  absolute 
truth  be  enforced.  Accommodation  had  to  be  practised 
even  here.  Polygamy  was  allowed  as  a  concession  to 
their  immature  stage  of  development :  and  practices  in 
war  and  in  domestic  law  were  permitted  or  enjoined 
which  were  inconsistent  with  absolute  morality.  Indeed 
the  whole  Jewish  system  was  an  adaptation  to  an  imma- 
ture state.  The  dwelling  of  God  in  the  Temple  as  a 
man  in  his  house,  the  propitiating  of  God  with  sacrifice 
as  of  an  Eastern  king  with  gifts  ;  this  was  a  teaching 
by  picture,  a  teaching  which  had  as  much  resem- 
blance to  the  truth  and  as  much  mixture  of  truth  as  they 
were  able  then  to  receive.  No  doubt  this  teaching  did 
actually  mislead  them  in  some  of  their  ideas  ;  but  it  kept 
them  on  the  whole  in  a  right  attitude  towards  God,  and 
prepared  them  for  growing  up  to  a  fuller  discernment 
of  the  truth. 

Much  more  was  this  law  observed  in  regard  to  such 
matters  as  are  dealt  with  in  these  chapters.  It  was 
impossible  that  in  their  ignorance  of  the  rudiments  of 
scientific  knowledge,  the  early  Hebrews  should  under- 
stand an  absolutely  accurate  account  of  how  the  world 
came  into  being  ;  and  if  they  could  have  understood  it, 
it  would  have  been  useless,  dissevered  as  it  must  have 
been  from  the  steps  of  knowledge  by  which  men  have 
since  arrived  at  it.  Children  ask  us  questions  in 
answer  to  which  we  do  not  tell  them  the  exact  full 
truth,  because  we  know  they  cannot  possibly  under- 
stand it.  All  that  we  can  do  is  to  give  them  seme 
provisional  answer  which  conveys  to  them  some  in- 
formation they  can  understand,  and  which  keeps  them 
in    a   right   state   of    mind,  although  this    information 


8  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

often  seems  absurd  enough  when  compared  with  the 
actual  facts  and  truth  of  the  matter.  And  if  some 
solemn  pedant  accused  us  of  supplying  the  child  with 
false  information,  we  would  simply  tell  him  he  knew 
nothing  about  children.  Accurate  information  on  these 
matters  will  infallibly  come  to  the  child  when  he  grows 
up  ;  what  is  wanted  meanwhile  is  to  give  him  information 
which  will  help  to  form  his  conduct  without  gravely 
misleading  him  as  to  facts.  Similarly,  if  any  one  tells 
me  he  cannot  accept  these  chapters  as  inspired  by  God, 
because  they  do  not  convey  scientifically  accurate  in- 
formation regarding  this  earth,  I  can  only  say  that 
he  has  yet  to  learn  the  first  principles  of  revelation, 
and  that  he  misunderstands  the  conditions  on  which 
all  instruction  must  be  given. 

My  belief  then  is,  that  in  these  chapters  we  have  the 
ideas  regarding  the  origin  of  the  world  and  of  man 
which  were  naturally  attainable  in  the  country  where 
they  were  first  composed,  but  with  those  important 
modifications  which  a  monotheistic  belief  necessarily 
suggested.  So  far  as  merely  physical  knowledge  went, 
there  is  probably  little  here  that  was  new  to  the  con- 
temporaries of  the  writer;  but  this  already  familiar 
knowledge  was  used  by  him  as  the  vehicle  for  convey- 
ing his  faith  in  the  unity,  love  and  wisdom  of  God  the 
creator.  He  laid  a  firm  foundation  for  the  history  of 
God's  relation  to  man.  This  was  his  object,  and  this 
he  accomplished.  The  Bible  is  the  book  to  which  we 
turn  for  information  regarding  the  history  of  God's 
revelation  of  Himself,  and  of  His  will  towards  men  ;  and 
in  these  chapters  we  have  the  suitable  introduction  to 
this  history.  No  changes  in  our  knowledge  of  physical 
truth  can  at  all  affect  the  teaching  of  these  chapters. 
What  they  teach  regarding  the  relation  of  man  to  God 


■■^£^M^^^^m^(^f:^^....^.. 


Gen.  i. ,  ii.  ]  THE   CREA  TION. 


is  independent  of  the  physical  details  in  which  this 
teaching  is  embodied,  and  can  as  easily  be  attached  to 
the  most  modern  statement  of  the  physical  origin  of  the 
world  and  of  man. 

What  then  are  the  truths  taught  us  in  these 
chapters  ?  The  first  is  that  there  has  been  a  creation, 
that  things  now  existing  have  not  just  grown  of  them- 
selves, but  have  been  called  into  being  by  a  presiding 
intelligence  and  an  originating  will.  No  attempt  to 
account  for  the  existence  of  the  world  in  any  other 
way  has  been  successful.  A  great  deal  has  in  this 
generation  been  added  to  our  knowledge  of  the  efficiency 
of  material  causes  to  produce  what  we  see  around  us ; 
but  when  we  ask  what  gives  harmony  to  these  material 
causes,  and  what  guides  them  to  the  production  of 
certain  ends,  and  what  originally  produced  them,  the 
answ.^r  must  still  be,  not  matter  but  intelligence  and 
purpose.  The  best  informed  and  most  penetrating 
minds  of  our  time  affirm  this.  John  Stuart  Mill  says  : 
"  It  must  be  allowed  that  in  the  present  state  of  our 
knowledge  the  adaptations  in  nature  afford  a  large 
balance  of  probability  in  favour  of  creation  by  intelli- 
gence." Professor  Tyndall  adds  his  testimony  and 
says  :  "  I  have  noticed  during  years  of  self-observation 
that  it  is  not  in  hours  of  clearness  and  vigour  that  [the 
doctrine  of  material  atheism]  commends  itself  to  my 
mind — that  in  the  hours  of  stronger  and  healthier 
thought  it  ever  dissolves  and  disappears,  as  offering  no 
solution  of  the  mystery  in  which  we  dwell  and  of  which 
we  form  a  part." 

There  is  indeed  a  prevalent  suspicion,  that  in  presence 
of  the  discoveries  made  by  evolutionists  the  argument 
frcm  design  is  no  longer  tenable.  Evolution  shows 
us  that  the  correspondence  of  the  structure  of  animals, 


/ 


10  .    THE  BOOK  OF  GEA'ESIS. 

with  their  modes  of  life,  has  been  generated  by  the 
nature  of  the  case ;  and  it  is  concluded  that  a  blind 
mechanical  necessity  and  not  an  intelligent  design  rules 
all.  But  the  discovery  of  the  process  by  which  the 
presently  existing  living  forms  have  been  evolved,  and 
the  perception  that  this  process  is  governed  by  laws 
which  have  always  been  operating,  do  not  make 
intelligence  and  design  at  all  less  necessary,  but  rather 
more  so.  As  Professor  Huxley  himself  says:  "The 
teleological  and  mechanical  views  of  nature  are  not 
necessarily  exclusive.  The  teleologist  can  always  defy 
the  evolutionist  to  disprove  that  the  primordial  molecular 
arrangement  was  not  intended  to  evolve  the  phenomena 
of  the  universe."  Evolution,  in  short,  by  disclosing  to 
us  the  marvellous  power  and  accuracy  of  natural  law, 
compels  us  more  emphatically  than  ever  to  refer  all 
law  to  a  supreme,  originating  intelligence. 

This  then  is  the  first  lesson  of  the  Bible  ;  that  at  the 
root  and  origin  of  all  this  vast  material  universe,  before 
whose  laws  we  are  crushed  as  the  moth,  there  abides  a 
living  conscious  Spirit,  who  wills  and  knows  and  fashions 
all  things.  The  belief  of  this  changes  for  us  the 
whole  face  of  nature,  and  instead  of  a  chill,  impersonal 
world  of  forces  to  which  no  appeal  can  be  made,  and 
in  which  matter  is  supreme,  gives  us  the  home  of  a 
Father.  If  you  are  yourself  but  a  particle  of  a  huge 
and  unconscious  universe — a  particle  which,  like  a 
flake  of  foam,  or  a  drop  of  rain,  or  a  gnat,  or  a  beetle, 
lasts  its  brief  space  and  then  yields  up  its  substance  to 
be  moulded  into  some  new  creature  ;  if  there  is  no 
power  that  understands  you  and  sympathizes  with  you 
and  makes  provision  for  your  instincts,  your  aspira- 
tions, your  capabilities  ;  if  man  is  himself  the  highest 
intelligence,  and  if  all  things  are  the  purposeless  result 


Cen.  i.,u.]  THE   CREATION, 


of  physical  forces  ;  if,  in  short,  there  is  no  God,  no 
consciousness  at  the  beginning  as  at  the  end  of  all 
things,  then  nothing  can  be  more  melancholy  than  our 
position.  Our  higher  desires  which  seem  to  separate 
us  so  immeasurably  from  the  brutes,  we  have,  only  that 
they  may  be  cut  down  by  the  keen  edge  of  time,  and 
wither  in  barren  disappointment ;  our  reason  we  have, 
only  to  enable  us  to  see  and  measure  the  brevity  of  our 
span,  and  so  live  our  little  day,  not  joyously  as  the  un- 
foreseeing  beasts,  but  shadowed  by  the  hastening  gloom 
of  anticipated,  inevitable  and  everlasting  night ;  our 
faculty  for  worshipping  and  for  striving  to  serve  and  to 
resemble  the  perfect  living  One,  that  faculty  which 
seems  to  be  the  thing  of  greatest  promise  and  of  finest 
quality  in  us,  and  to  which  is  certainly  due  the  largest 
part  of  what  is  admirable  and  profitable  in  human 
history,  is  the  most  mocking  and  foolishest  of  all  our 
parts.  But,  God  be  thanked,  He  has  revealed  himself 
to  us ;  has  given  us  in  the  harmonious  and  progressive 
movement  of  all  around  us,  sufficient  indication  that, 
even  in  the  material  world,  intelligence  and  purpose 
reign  ;  an  indication  which  becomes  immensely  clearer 
as  we  pass  into  the  world  of  man ;  and  which,  in 
presence  of  the  person  and  life  of  Christ  attains  the 
brightness  of  a  conviction  which  illuminates  all  besides. 
The  other  great  truth  which  this  writer  teaches  is, 
that  man  was  the  chief  work  of  God,  for  whose  sake  all 
else  was  brought  into  being.  The  work  of  creation 
was  not  finished  till  he  appeared  :  all  else  was  prepar- 
atory to  this  final  product.  That  man  is  the  crown  and 
lord  of  this  earth  is  obvious.  Man  instinctively  assumes 
that  all  else  has  been  made  for  him,  and  freely  acts 
upon  this  assumption.  But  when  our  eyes  are  lifted 
from  this  little  ball  on  which  we  are  set  and  to  which 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


we  are  confined,  and  when  we  scan  such  other  parts 
of  the  universe  as  are  within  our  ken,  a  keen  sense  of 
littleness  oppresses  us  ;  our  earth  is  after  all  so  minute 
and  apparently  inconsiderable  a  point  when  compared 
with  the  vast  suns  and  planets  that  stretch  system  on 
system  into  illimitable  space.  When  we  read  even  the 
rudiments  of  what  astronomers  have  discovered  regard- 
ing the  inconceivable  vastness  of  the  universe,  the  huge 
dimensions  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  and  the  grand  scale 
on  which  everything  is  framed,  we  find  rising  to  our 
lips,  and  with  tenfold  reason,  the  words  of  David  : 
"  When  I  consider  Thy  heavens,  the  work  of  Thy 
fingers ;  the  moon  and  the  stars  which  Thou  hast 
ordained  ;  what  is  man  that  Thou  art  mindful  of  him,  or 
the  son  of  man  that  Thou  visitest  him  ?  "  Is  it  con- 
ceivable that  on  this  scarcely  discernible  speck  in  the 
vastness  of  the  universe,  should  be  played  out  the 
chiefest  act  in  the  history  of  God  ?  Is  it  credible  that 
He  whose  care  it  is  to  uphold  this  illimitable  universe, 
should  be  free  to  think  of  the  wants  and  woes  of  the 
insignificant  creatures  who  quickly  spend  their  little 
lives  in  this  inconsiderable  earth  ? 

But  reason  seems  all  on  the  side  of  Genesis.  God 
must  not  be  considered  as  sitting  apart  in  a  remote 
position  of  general  superintendence,  but  as  present  with 
all  that  is.  And  to  Him  who  maintains  these  systems 
in  their  respective  relations  and  orbits,  it  can  be  no 
burden  to  relieve  the  needs  of  individuals.  To  think 
of  ourselves  as  too  insignificant  to  be  attended  to  is  to 
derogate  from  God's  true  majesty  and  to  misunderstand 
His  relation  to  the  world.  But  it  is  also  to  misappre- 
hend the  real  value  of  spirit  as  compared  with  matter. 
Man  is  dear  to  God  because  he  is  like  Him.  Vast  and 
glorious  as  it  is,  the  sun  cannot  think  God's  thoughts ; 


Gen.  i.,ii.]  THE   CREATION.  13 

can  fulfil  but  cannot  intelligently  sympathize  with  God'i. 
purpose.  Man,  alone  among  God's  works,  can  enter 
into  and  approve  of  God's  purpose  in  the  world  and 
can  intelligently  fulfil  it.  Without  man  the  whole 
material  universe  would  have  been  dark  and  unintel- 
ligible, mechanical  and  apparently  without  any  sufficient 
purpose.  Matter,  however  fearfully  and  wonderfully 
wrought,  is  but  the  platform  and  material  in  which 
spirit,  intelligence  and  will,  may  fulfil  themselves  and 
find  development.  Man  is  incommensurable  with  the 
rest  of  the  universe.  He  is  of  a  different  kind  and  by 
his  moral  nature  is  more  akin  to  God  than  to  His  works. 
Here  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  God's  revelation 
join  hands  and  throw  light  on  one  another.  The 
nature  of  man  was  that  in  which  God  was  at  last  to 
give  His  crowning  revelation,  and  for  that  no  prepara- 
tion could  seem  extravagant.  Fascinating  and  full  of 
marvel  as  is  the  history  of  the  past  which  science  dis- 
closes to  us  ;  full  as  these  slow-moving  millions  of  years 
are  in  evidences  of  the  exhaustless  wealth  of  nature, 
and  mysterious  as  the  delay  appears,  all  that  expendi- 
ture of  resources  is  eclipsed  and  all  the  delay  justified 
when  the  whole  work  is  crowned  by  the  Incarnation, 
for  in  it  we  see  that  all  that  slow  process  was  the 
preparation  of  a  nature  in  which  God  could  manifest 
Himself  as  a  Person  to  persons.  This  is  seen  to  be 
an  end  worthy  of  all  that  is  contained  in  the  physical 
history  of  the  world  :  this  gives  completeness  to  the 
whole  and  makes  it  a  unity.  No  higher,  other  end  need 
be  sought,  none  could  be  conceived.  It  is  this  which 
seems  worthy  of  those  tremendous  and  subtle  forces 
which  have  been  set  at  work  in  the  physical  world, 
this  which  justifies  the  long  lapse  of  ages  filled  with 
wonders  unobserved,  and  teeming  with  ever  new  fife; 


14  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

this  above  all  which  justifies  these  latter  ages  in  which 
t\\  physical  marvels  have  been  outdone  by  the  tragical 
history  of  man  upon  earth.  Remove  the  Incarnation 
and  all  remains  dark,  purposeless,  unintelligible  :  grant 
the  Incarnation,  believe  that  in  Jesus  Christ  the  Supreme 
manifested  Himself  personally,  and  Hght  is  shed  upon 
all  that  has  been  and  is. 

Light  is  shed  on  the  individual  life.  Are  you  living 
as  if  you  were  the  product  of  blind  mechanical  laws, 
and  as  if  there  were  no  object  worthy  of  your  life  and 
of  all  the  force  you  can  throw  into  your  life  ?  Consider 
the  Incarnation  of  the  Creator,  and  ask  yourself  if  suffi- 
cient object  is  not  given  to  you  in  His  call  that  you 
be  conformed  to  His  image  and  become  the  intelligent 
executor  of  His  purposes  ?  Is  life  not  worth  having 
even  on  these  terms  ?  The  man  that  can  still  sit  down 
and  bemoan  himself  as  if  there  were  no  meaning  in 
existence,  or  lounge  languidly  through  life  as  if  there 
were  no  zest  or  urgency  in  living,  or  try  to  satisfy 
himself  with  fleshly  comforts,  has  surely  need  to  turn 
to  the  opening  page  of  Revelation  and  learn  that  God 
saw  sufficient  object  in  the  life  of  man,  enough  to  com- 
pensate for  millions  of  ages  of  preparation.  If  it  is 
possible  that  you  should  share  in  the  character  and 
destiny  of  Christ,  can  a  healthy  ambition  crave  anything 
more  or  higher  ?  If  the  future  is  to  be  as  momentous 
in  results  as  the  past  has  certainly  been  filled  with  pre- 
paration, have  you  no  caring  to  share  in  these  results  ? 
Believe  that  there  is  a  purpose  in  things;  that  in  Christ, 
the  revelation  of  God,  you  can  see  what  that  purpose 
is,  and  that  by  wholly  uniting  yourself  to  Him  and 
allowing  yourself  to  be  penetrated  by  His  Spirit  you 
can  participate  with  Him  in  the  working  out  of  that 
purpose. 


II. 

THE    FALL. 
Genesis  iii. 

PROFOUND  as  the  teaching  of  this  narrative  is,  its 
meaning  does  not  lie  on  the  surface.  Literal  in- 
terpretation will  reach  a  measure  of  its  significance, 
but  plainly  there  is  more  here  than  appears  in  the  letter. 
When  we  read  that  the  serpent  was  more  subtil  than 
any  beast  of  the  field  which  the  Lord  God  had  made, 
and  that  he  tempted  the  woman,  we  at  once  perceive 
that  it  is  not  with  the  outer  husk  of  the  story  we  are  to 
concern  ourselves,  but  with  the  kernel.  The  narrative 
throughout  speaks  of  nothing  but  the  brute  serpent ; 
not  a  word  is  said  of  the  devil,  not  the  slightest  hint 
is  given  that  the  machinations  of  a  fallen  angel  are 
signified.  The  serpent  is  compared  to  the  other  beasts 
of  the  field,  showing  that  it  is  the  brute  serpent  that  is 
spoken  of.  The  curse  is  pronounced  on  the  beast,  not 
on  a  fallen  spirit  summoned  for  the  purpose  before  the 
Supreme;  and  not  in  terms  which  could  apply  to  a 
fallen  spirit,  but  in  terms  that  are  applicable  only  to  the 
serpent  that  crawls.  Yet  every  reader  feels  that  this  is 
not  the  whole  mystery  of  the  fall  of  man  :  moral  evil 
cannot  be  accounted  for  by  referring  it  to  a  brute 
source.  No  one,  I  suppose,  believes  that  the  whole 
tribe  of  serpents  crawl  as  a  punishment  of  an  offence 


l6  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

committed  by  one  of  their  number,  or  that  the  whole 
iniquity  and  sorrow  of  the  world  are  due  to  an  actual 
serpent.  Plainly  this  is  merely  a  pictorial  representa- 
tion intended  to  convey  some  general  impressions  and 
ideas.  Vitally  important  truths  underlie  the  narrative 
and  are  bodied  forth  by  it ;  but  the  way  to  reach  these 
truths  is  not  to  adhere  too  rigidly  to  the  literal  meaning, 
but  to  catch  the  general  impression  which  it  seems 
fitted  to  make. 

No  doubt  this  opens  the  door  to  a  great  variety  of 
interpretation.  No  two  men  will  attach  to  it  precisely 
the  same  meaning.  One  says,  the  serpent  is  a  symbol 
for  Satan,  but  Adam  and  Eve  are  historical  persons. 
Another  says,  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil 
is  a  figure,  but  the  driving  out  from  the  garden  is  real. 
Another  maintains  that  the  whole  is  a  picture,  putting 
in  a  visible,  intelligible  shape  certain  vitally  important 
truths  regarding  the  history  of  our  race.  So  that  every 
man  is  left  very  much  to  his  own  judgment,  to  read  the 
narrative  candidly  and  in  such  light  from  other  sources 
as  he  has,  and  let  it  make  its  own  impression  upon 
him.  This  would  be  a  sad  result  if  the  object  of  the 
Bible  were  to  bring  us  all  to  a  rigid  uniformity  of  belief 
in  all  matters  ;  but  the  object  of  the  Bible  is  not  that, 
but  the  far  higher  object  of  furnishing  all  varieties  of 
men  with  sufficient  light  to  lead  them  to  God.  And 
this  being  so,  variety  of  interpretation  in  details  is  not 
to  be  lamented.  The  very  purpose  of  such  representa- 
tions as  are  here  given  is  to  suit  all  stages  of  mental 
and  spiritual  advancement.  Let  the  child  read  it  and 
he  will  learn  what  will  live  in  his  mind  and  influence 
him  all  his  life.  Let  the  devout  man  who  has  ranged 
through  all  science  and  history  and  philosophy  come 
back  to  this  narrative,  and  he  feels  that  he  has  here 


Gen.iii.]  THE  FALL.  17 

the  essential  truth  regarding  the  beginnings  of  man's 
tragical  career  upon  earth. 

We  should,  in  my  opinion,  be  labouring  under  a 
misapprehension  if  we  supposed  that  none  even  of  the 
earliest  readers  of  this  account  saw  the  deeper  meaning 
of  it.  When  men  who  felt  the  misery  of  sin  and  lifted 
up  their  hearts  to  God  for  deliverance,  read  the  words 
addressed  to  the  serpent,  "  I  will  put  enmity  between 
thee  and  the  woman,  and  between  thy  seed  and  her 
seed;  it  shall  bruise  thy  head,  and  thou  shalt  bruise  his 
heel  "^is  it  reasonable  to  suppose  that  such  men  would 
take  these  words  in  their  literal  sense,  and  satisfy 
themselves  with  the  assurance  that  serpents,  though 
dangerous,  would  be  kept  under,  and  would  find  in  the 
words  no  assurance  of  that  very  thing  they  themselves 
were  all  their  lifetime  striving  after,  deliverance  from 
the  evil  thing  which  lay  at  the  root  of  all  sin  ?  No 
doubt  some  would  accept  the  story  in  its  literal  mean- 
ing,— shallow  and  careless  men  whose  own  spiritual 
experience  never  urged  them  to  see  any  spiritual  signi- 
ficance in  the  words  would  do  so  ;  but  even  those  who 
saw  least  in  the  story,  and  put  a  very  shallow  interpre- 
tation on  its  details,  could  scarcely  fail  to  see  its  main 
teaching. 

The  reader  of  this  perennially  fresh  story  is  first  of 
all  struck  with  the  account  given  of  man's  primitive 
comlition.  Coming  to  this  narrative  with  our  minds 
coloured  by  the  fancies  of  poets  and  philosophers,  we 
are  almost  startled  by  the  check  which  the  plain  and 
sober  statements  of  this  account  give  to  an  unpruned 
fancy.  We  have  to  read  the  words  again  and  again  to 
make  sure  we  have  not  omitted  something  which  gives 
support  to  those  glowing  descriptions  of  man's  primi- 
tive  condition.     Certainly  he^ia  jdescribcd  as  innocent 

2 


l5  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

and  at  peace  with  God,  and  in  this  respect  no  terms  can 
exaggerate  his  happiness.  But  in  other  respects  the 
language  of  the  Bible  is  surprisingly  moderate.  Man 
is  represented  as  living  on  fruit,  and  as  going  unclothed, 
and,  so  far  as  appears,  without  any  artificial  shelter 
either  from  the  heat  of  the  sun  or  the  cold  of  night. 
None  of  the  arts  were  as  yet  known.  All  working  of 
metals  had  yet  to  be  discovered,  so  that  his  tools  must 
have  been  of  the  rudest  possible  description  ;  and  the 
arts,  such  as  music,  which  adorn  life  and  make  leisure 
enjoyable,  were  also  still  in  the  future. 
(_^\M  the  most  significant  elements  in  man's  primitive 
condition  are  represented  by  the  two  trees  of  the 
garden  ;  by  trees,  because  with  plants  alone  he  had  to 
do.  In  the  centre  of  the  garden  stood  the  tree  of  life, 
the  fruit  of  which  bestowed  immortality.  Man  was 
therefore  naturally  mortal,  though  apparently_  with  a 
capacity  for  immortality.  How  this  capacity  would 
have  actually  carried  man  on  to  immortality  had  he  not 
sinned,  it  is  vain  to  conjecture.  The  mystical  nature 
of  the  tree  of  life  is  fully  recognised  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment, by  our  Lord,  when  He  says :  "  To  him  that 
overcometh  will  I  give  to  eat  of  the  tree  of  fife, 
which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  Paradise  of  God ; "  and 
by  John,  when  he  describes  the  new  Jerusalem  :  "  In 
the  midst  of  the  street  of  it,  and  on  either  side  of  the 
river,  was  there  the  tree  of  life,  which  bare  twelve 
manner  of  fruits,  and  yielded  her  fruit  ever}'  month  : 
and  the  leaves  of  the  tree  were  for  the  healing  of  the 
nations."  Both  these  representations  are  intended  to 
convey,  in  a  striking  and  pictorial  form,  the  promise 
of  life  everlasting. 

And  as  of  the  tree  of  life  which  stands  in  the  Paradise 
of  the  future  it  is  said  "  Blessed  are  they  that  do  His 


Gen.iii.]  THE  FALL.  19 

commandments,  that  they  may  have  right  to  the  tree 

of  Hfe  ;■"  so_  in  Eden  man's  immortality  was  suspended 

on  the  condition  of  obedience.     And  the  trial  of  man's 

obedience  is  imaged  in  the  other  tree,  the  tree  of  the 

knowledge    of    good    and    evil.     From    the    child-like ' 

innocence  in  which  man  originally  was,  he  was  to  pass 

forward    into  the  condition  of  moral  manhood,  which 
<  .  .  .  ...  . 

/  consists  not  m  mere  mnocence,  out  m  mnocence  main- 

f  tained  in  presence  of  temptation.  The  savage  is  in- 
nocent of  many  of  the  crimes  of  civilized  men  because 
he  has  no  opportunity  to  commit  them ;  the  child  is  in- 
nocent of  some  of  the  vices  of  manhood  because  he  has 
no  temptation  to  them.  But  this  innocence  is  the  result 
of  circumstance,  not  of  character  ;  and  if  savage  or 
child  is  to  become  a  mature  moral  being  he  must  be 
tried  by  altered  circumstances,  by  temptation  and  oppor- 
tunity. To  carry  man  forward  to  this  higher  stage 
trial  is  necessary,  and  this  trial  is  indicated  by  the 
tree  of  knowledge.  The  fruit  of  this  tree  is  prohibited, 
to  indicate  that  it  is  only  in  presence  of  what  is  for- 1 
bidden  man  can  be  morally  tested,  and  that  it  is  only 
by  self-command  and  obedience  to  law,  and  not  by  the 
mere  following  of  instincts,  that  man  can  attain  to  j 
moral  maturity.  The  prohibition  is  that  which  makes 
him  recognise  a  distinction  between  good  and  evil. 
He  is  put  in  a  position  in  which  good  is  not  the  only 
thing  he  can  do  ;  an  alternative  is  present  to  his  mind, 
and  the  choice  of  good  in  preference  to  evil  is  made 
possible  to  him.  In  presence  of  this  tree  child-like 
innocence  was  no  longer  possible.  The  self-determina- 
tion of  manhood  was  constantly  required.  Conscience, 
hitherto  latent,  was  now  evoked  and  took  its  place  as 
man's  supreme  faculty. 

It   is  in  vain,  to  think  of  exhausting  this  narrative. 


i 


20  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

We  can,  at  the  most,  only   remark  upon  some  of  the 
most  saUent  points. 

(i)  Temptation  comes  like  a  serpent ;  like  the  most 
subtile  beast  of  the  field  ;  like  that  one  '-rrature  which 
is  said  to  exert  a  fascinating  influence  on  its  victims, 
fastening  them  with  its  glittering  eye,  stealing  upon 
them  by  its  noiseless,  low  and  unseen  approach,  per- 
plexing them  by  its  wide  circling  folds,  seeming  to 
come  upon  them  from  all  sides  at  once,  and  armed  not 
like  the  other  beasts  with  one  weapon  of  offence — horn, 
or  hoof,  or  teeth — but  capable  of  crushing  its  victim 
with  every  part  of  its  sinuous  length.  It  lies  apparently 
dead  for  months  tcgether,  but  when  roused  it  can,  as 
the  naturalist  tells  us,  "  outclimb  the  monkey,  outswim 
the  fish,  outleap  the  zebra,  outwrest:e  the  athlete,  and 
crush  the  tiger."  How  naturally  in  describing  tempta- 
tion do  we  borrow  language  from  the  aspect  and  move- 
ments of  this  creature.  It  does  not  need  to  hunt 
down  its  victims  by  long  continued  pursuit,  its  victims 
come  and  put  themselves  within  its  reach.  Unseen, 
temptation  lies  by  our  path,  and  before  we  have  time 
to  think  we  are  fascinated  and  bewildered,  its  coils 
rapidly  gather  round  us  and  its  stroke  flashes  poison 
through  our  blood.  Against  sin,  when  once  it  has 
wreathed  itself  around  us,  we  seem  helpless  to  con- 
tend ;  the  very  powers  with  which  we  could  resist  are 
benumbed  or  pinned  useless  to  our  side — our  foe  seems 
all  round  us,  and  to  extricate  one  part  is  but  to  become 
entangled  in  another.  As  the  serpent  finds  its  way 
everywhere,  over  every  fence  or  barrier,  into  every 
corner  and  recess,  so  it  is  impossible  to  keep  temptation 
out  of  the  life ;  it  appears  where  least  we  expect  it  and 
when  we  think  ourselves  secure. 

(2)  Temptation   succeeds   at   first   by   exciting   our 


Gen.iii.]  THE  FALL.  21 

curiosity.  It  is  a  wise  saying  that  "  our  great  security 
against  sin  lies  in  being  shocked  at  it.  Eve  gazed 
and  reflected  when  she  should  have  fled."  The 
serpent  creai?^  .an  interest,  excited  her  curiosity  about 
this  forbidden  fruit.  And  as  this  excited  curiosity  lies 
near  the  beginning  of  sin  in  the  race,  so  does  it  in  the 
individual.  I  suppose  if  you  trace  back  the  mystery  of 
iniquity  in  your  own  life  and  seek  to  track  it  to  its 
source,  you  will  find  it  to  have  originated  in  this  craving 
to  taste  evil.  No  man  originally  meant  to  become  the 
sinner  he  has  become.  He  only  intended,  like  Eve, 
to  taste.  It  was  a  voyage  of  discovery  he  meant  to 
make ;  he  did  not  think  to  get  nipped  and  frozen  up 
and  never  more  return  from  the  outer  cold  and  dark- 
ness. He  wished  before  finally  giving  himself  to 
virtue,  to  see  the  real  value  of  the  other  alternative. 

This  dangerous  craving  has  many  elements  in  it. 
There  is  in  it  the  instinctive  drawing  towards  what  is 
mysterious.  One  veiled  figure  in  an  assembly  will 
attract  more  scrutiny  than  the  most  admired  beauty. 
An  appearance  in  the  heavens  that  no  one  can  account 
for  will  nightly  draw  more  eyes  than  the  most  wonder- 
ful sunset.  To  lift  veils,  to  penetrate  disguises,  to 
unravel  complicated  plots,  to  solve  mysteries,  this  is 
always  inviting  to  the  human  mind.  The  tale  which 
used  to  thrill  us  in  childhood,  of  the  one  locked  room, 
the  one  forbidden  key,  bears  in  it  a  truth  for  men  as 
well  as  for  children.  What  is  hidden  must,  we  con- 
clude, have  some  interest  for  us — else  why  hide  it  from 
us  ?  What  is  forbidden  must  have  some  important 
bearing  upon  us.  Else  why  forbid  it  ?  Things  which 
are  indifferent  to  us  are  left  in  our  way,  obvious,  and 
without  concealment.  But  as  action  has  been  taken 
regarding  the  things  that  are  forbidden,  action  in  view 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


of  our  relation  to  them,  it  is  natural  to  us  to  desire  to 
know  what  these  things  are  and  how  they  affect  us. 

There  is  added  to  this  in  young  persons,  a  sense 
of  incompleteness.  They  wish  to  be  grown  up.  Few 
boys  wish  to  be  always  boys.  They  long  for  the  signs 
of  manhood,  and  seek  to  possess  that  knowledge  of  life 
and  its  ways  which  they  very  much  identify  with  man- 
hood. But  too  commonly  they  mistake  the  path  to 
manhood.  They  feel  as  if  they  had  a  wider  range 
of  liberty  and  were  more  thoroughly  men  when  they 
transgress  the  limits  assigned  by  conscience.  They 
feel  as  if  there  were  a  new  and  brighter  world  outside 
that  which  is  fenced  round  by  strict  morality,  and  they 
tremble  with  excitement  on  its  borders.  It  is  a  fatal 
delusion.  Only  by  choosing  the  good  in  presence  of 
the  evil  are  true  manhood  and  real  maturity  gained. 
True  manliness  consists  mainly  in  self  control,  in  a 
patient  waiting  upon  nature  and  God's  law  and  when  / 
youth  impatiently  breaks  through  the  protecting  fence 
of  God's  law,  and  seeks  growth  by  knowing  evil,  it 
misses  that  very  advancement  it  seeks,  and  cheats  itself 
cut  of  the  manhood  it  apes. 

(  (3)  Through  this  craving  for  an  enlarged  experience 
unbelief  in  God's  goodness  finds  entrance.  In  the 
presence  of  forbidden  pleasure  we  are  tempted  to  feel 
as  if  God  were  grudging  us  enjoyment.  The  very 
arguments  of  the  serpent  occur  to  our  mind.  No  harm 
will  come  of  our  indulging  ;  the  prohibition  is  needless, 
unreasonable  and  unkind  ;  it  is  not  based  on  any  genuine 
desire  for  our  welfare.  This  fence  that  shuts  us  out 
from  knowing  good  and  evil  is  erected  by  a  timorous 
asceticism,  by  a  ridiculous  misconception  of  what  truly 
enlarges  human  nature ;  it  shuts  us  into  a  poor  narrow 
life.     And  thus  suspicions  of  God's  perfect  wisdom  and 


Gen.iii.]  THE  FALL.  23 

goodness  find  entrance  ;  we  begin  to  think  we  know 
better  than  He  what  is  good  for  us,  and  can  contrive 
a  richer,  happier  Hfe  than  He  has  provided  for  us. 
Our  loyalty  to  Him  is  loosened,  and  already  we  have 
lost  hold  of  His  strength  and  are  launched  on  the 
current  that  leads  to  sin,  misery,  and  shame.  When 
we  find  ourselves  saying  Yes,  where  God  has  said  No ; 
when  we  see  desirable  things  where  God  has  said  there 
is  death ;  when  we  allow  distrust  of  Him  to  rankle  in 
our  mind,  when  we  chafe  against  the  restrictions  under 
which  we  live  and  seek  liberty  by  breaking  down  the 
fence  instead  of  by  delighting  in  God,  we  are  on  the 
highway  to  all  evil) 

(4)  If  we  know  our  own  history  we  cannot  be  sur- 
prised to  read  that  one  taste  of  evil  ruined  our  first 
parents.  It  is  so  always.  The  lone  taste  alters  our 
attitude  towards  God  and  conscience  and  life.  It  is  a 
veritable  Circe's  cup.  The  actual  experience  of  sin  is 
like  the  one  taste  of  alcohol  to  a  reclaimed  drunkard, 
like  the  first  taste  of  blood  to  a  young  tiger,  it  calls  out 
the  latent  devil  and  creates  a  new  nature  within  us. 
At  one  brush  it  wipes  out  all  the  peace,  and  joy,  and 
self-respect,  and  boldness  of  innocence,  and  numbers 
us  among  the  transgressors,  among  the  shame-faced, 
and  self-despising,  and  hopeless.  It  leaves  us  possessed 
with  unhappy  thoughts  which  lead  us  away  from  what 
is  bright,  and  honourable,  and  good,  and  like  the  letting 
out  of  water  it  seems  to  have  tapped  a  spring  of  evil 
within  us.  It  is  but  one  step,  but  it  is  like  the  step  over 
a  precipice  or  down  the  shaft  of  a  mine;  it  cannot  be 
taken  back,  it  commits  to  an  altogether  different  state 
of  things.  V 

(5)  The  first  result  of  sin  is  shame.  The  form  in 
which  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  comes  to  us  is 


24  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

the  knowing  we  are  naked,  the  consciousness  that  we 
are  stripped  of  all  that  made  us  walk  unabashed  before 
God  and  men.  The  promise  of  the  serpent  while 
broken  in  the  sense  is  fulfilled  to  the  ear ;  the  eyes  of 
Adam  and  Eve  were  opened  and  they  knew  that  they 
were  naked.  Self-reflection  begins,  and  the  first  move- 
ment of  conscience  produces  shame.  Had  they  resisted^ 
temptation,  conscience  would  have  been  born  but  not 
in  self-condemnation.  Like  children  they  had  hitherto 
been  conscious  only  of  what  was  external  to  themselves, 
but  now  their  consciousness  of  a  power  to  choose  good 
and  evil  is  awakened  and  its  first  exercise  is  accom- 
panied with  shame,  ^hey  feel  that  in  themselves  they 
are  faulty,  that  they  are  not  in  themselves  complete  ; 
that  though  created  by  God,  they  are  not  fit  for  His  eye. 
The  lower  animals  wear  no  clothes  because  they  have 
no  knowledge  of  good  and  evil ;  children  feel  no  need 
of  covering  because  as  yet  self-consciousness  is  latent, 
and  their  conduct  is  determined  for  them ;  those  who 
are  re-made  in  the  image  of  God  and  glorified  as  Christ 
is,  cannot  be  thought  of  as  clothed,  for  in  them  there  is 
no  sense  of  sin.  But  Adam's  clothing  himself  and 
hiding  himself  were  the  helpless  attempts  of  a  guilty 
conscience  to  evade  the  judgment  of  trutTiV 

(6)  But  when  Adam  found  he  was  n<y^longer  fit  for 
God's  eye,  God  provided  a  covering  which  might  enable 
him  again  to  live  in  His  presence  without  dismay. 
Man  had  exhausted  his  own  ingenuity  and  resources, 
and  exhausted  them  without  finding  relief  to  his  shame. 
If  his  shame  was  to  be  effectually  removed,  God  must 
do  it.  And  the  clothing  in  coats  of  skins  indicates  the 
restoration  of  man,  not  indeed  to  pristine  innocence, 
but  to  peace  with  God.  Adam  felt  that  God  did  not 
wish  to  banish  him  lastingly  from  His  presence,  nor  to 


Gen.  iii.]  THE  FALL.  25 

see  him  always  a  trembling  and  confused  penitent. 
The  self-respect  and  progressiveness,  the  reverence  for 
law  and  order  and  God,  which  came  in  with  clothes, 
and  which  we  associate  with  the  civilised  races,  were 
accepted  as  tokens  that  God  was  desirous  to  co-operate 
with  man,  to  forward  and  further  him  in  all  good. 

It  is  also  to  be  remarked  that  the  clothing  which  God 
provided  was  in  itself  different  from  what  man  had 
thought  of.  Adam  took  leaves  from  an  inanimate,  un- 
feeling tree ;  God  deprived  an  animal  of  life,  that  the 
shame  of  His  creature  might  be  relieved.  This  was  the 
last  thing  Adam  would  have  thought  of  doing.  /_To  us 
life  is  cheap  and  death  familiar,  but  Adam  recognised 
death  as  the  punishment  of  sin.  Death  was  to  early 
man  a  sign  of  God's  anger.  And  he  had  to  learn  that 
sin  could  be  covered  not  by  a  bunch  of  leaves  snatched 
from  a  bush  as  he  passed  by  and  that  would  grow  again 
next  year,  but  only  by  pain  and  blood.  Sin  cannot  be 
atoned  for  by  any  mechanical  action  nor  without  ex- 
penditure of  feeling.  Suffering  must  ever  follow  wrong- 
doing. From  the  first  sin  to  the  last,  the  track  of  the 
sinner  is  marked  with  blood.  Once  we  have  sinned  we 
cannot  regain  permanent  peace  of  conscience  save 
through  pain,  and  this  not  only  pain  of  our  owoli  The 
first  hint  of  this  was  given  as  soon  as  conscience  was 
aroused  in  man.  It  was  made  apparent  that  sin  was  a 
real  and  deep  evil,  and  that  by  no  easy  and  cheap 
process  could  the  sinner  be  restored.  The  same  lesson 
has  been  written  on  millions  of  consciences  since.  Men 
have  found  that  their  sin  reaches  beyond  their  own  life 
and  person,  that  it  inflicts  injury  and  involves  dis- 
turbance and  distress,  that  it  changes  utterly  our  rela- 
tion to  life  and  to  God,  and  that  we  cannot  rise  above 
its  consequences  save  by  the  intervention  of  God  Him- 


26  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

self,  by  an  intervention  which  tells  us  of  the  sorrow  He 
suffers  on  our  account. 

For  the  chief  point  is  that  it  is  God  who  relieves 
man's  shame.  Until  we  are  certified  that  God  desires 
cur  peace  of  mind  we  cannot  be  at  peace.  The  cross  of 
Christ  is  the  permanent  witness  to  this  desire  on  God's 
part.  No  one  can  read  what  Christ  has  done  for  us 
without  feeling  sure  that  lor  himself  there  is  a  way 
back  to  God  from  all  sin — that  it  is  God's  desire  that 
his  sin  should  be  covered,  his  iniquity  forgiven.  Too 
often  that  which  seems  of  prime  importance  to  God 
seems  of  very  slight  importance  to  us.  To  have  our 
life  founded  solidly  in  harmony  with  the  Supreme, 
seems  often  to  excite  no  desire  within  us.  It  is  about 
sin  we  find  man  first  dealing  with  God,  and  until  you 
have  satisfied  God  and  yourself  regarding  this  prime 
and  fundamental  matter  of  your  own  transgression  and 
wrong-doing  you  look  in  vain  for  any  deep  and  lasting 
growth  and  satisfaction.  Have  you  no  reason  to  be 
ashamed  before  God  ?  Have  you  loved  Him  in  any 
proportion  to  His  worthiness  to  be  loved  ?  Have  you 
cordially  and  habitually  fallen  in  with  His  will  ?  Have 
you  zealously  done  His  work  in  the  world  ?  Have 
you  fallen  short  of  no  good  He  intended  you  should  do 
and  gave  you  opportunity  to  do  ?  Is  there  no  reason 
for  shame  on  your  part  before  God  ?  Has  His  desire 
to  cover  sin  no  application  to  you  ?  Can  you  not 
understand  His  meaning  when  He  comes  to  you  with 
offers  of  pardon  and  acts  of  oblivion  ?  Surely  the 
candid  mind,  the  clear-judging  conscience  can  be  at  no 
loss  to  explain  God's  solicitous  concern  for  the  sinner ; 
and  must  humbly  own  that  even  that  unfathomable 
Divine  emotion  which  is  exhibited  in  the  cross  of  Christ, 
is  no  exaggerated  and  theatrical  demonstration,  but  the 


Gen.  iii.]  THE  FALL.  27 

actual  carrying  through  of  what  was  really  needed  for 
the  restoration  of  the  sinner.  Do  not  live  as  if  the 
cross  of  Christ  had  never  been,  or  as  if  you  had  never 
sinned  and  had  no  connection  with  it.  Strive  to  learn 
what  it  means ;  strive  to  deal  fairly  with  it  and  fairly 
with  your  own  transgressions  and  with  your  present 
actual  relation  to  God  and  His  will. 


^ 


III. 

CAIN  AND  ABEL, 
Genesis  iv. 

IT  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  narrator  to  write  the 
history  of  the  world.  It  is  not  his  purpose  to 
write  even  the  history  of  mankind.  His  object  is 
to  write  the  history  of  redemption.  Starting  from  the 
broad  fact  of  man's  ahenation  from  God,  he  means 
to  trace  that  element  in  human  history  which  results  in 
the  perfect  re-union  of  God  and  man.  The  key-note 
has  been  struck  in  the  promise  already  given  that  the 
seed  of  the  woman  should  prevail  over  the  seed  of  the 
serpent,  that  the  effects  of  man's  voluntary  dissociation 
from  God  should  be  removed.  It  is  the  fulfilment  of 
this  promise  which  is  traced  by  this  writer.  He  steadily 
pursues  that  one  line  of  history  which  runs  directly 
towards  this  fulfilment ;  turning  aside  now  and  again 
to  pursue,  to  a  greater  or  less  distance,  diverging  lines, 
but  always  returning  to  the  grand  highway  on  which 
the  promise  travels.  His  method  is  first  to  dispose  of 
collateral  matter  and  then  to  proceed  with  his  main 
theme.  As  here,  he  first  disposes  of  the  line  of  Cain 
and  then  returns  to  Seth  through  whom  the  fine  of 
promise  is  maintained. 

The  first  thing  we  have  to  do  with  outside  the  garden 
is  death — the  curse  of  sin  speedily  manifests  itself  in 


Gen.  iv.]  CAIN  AND   ABEL.  29 

its  most  terrible  form.  But  the  sinner  executes  it  him- 
self. The  first  death  is  a  murder.  As  if  to  show  that  all 
death  is  a  wrong  inflicted  on  us  and  proceeds  not  from 
God  but  from  sin,  it  is  inflicted  by  sin  and  by  the  hand 
of  man.  Man  becomes  his  own  executioner,  and  takes 
part  with  Satan,  the  murderer  from  the  beginning.  But 
certainly  the  first  feeling  produced  by  these  events  must 
have  been  one  of  bitter  disappointment,  as  if  the  promise 
were  to  be  lost  in  the  curse. 

The  story  of  Cain  and  Abel  was  to  all  appearance 
told  in  order  to  point  out  that  from  the  very  first  men 
have  been  divided  into  two  great  classes,  viewed  in  con- 
nection with  God's  promise  and  presence  in  the  world. 
Always  there  have  been  those  who  believed  in  God's 
love  and  waited  for  it,  and  those  who  believed  more  in 
their  own  force  and  energy.  Always  there  have  been 
the  humble  and  self-diffident  who  hoped  in  God,  and 
the  proud  and  self-reliant  who  felt  themselves  equal  to 
all  the  occasions  of  life.  And  this  story  of  Cain  and 
Abel  and  the  succeeding  generations  does  not  conceal 
the  fact,  that  for  the  purposes  of  this  world  there  has 
been  visible  an  element  of  weakness  in  the  godly  line, 
and  that  it  is  to  the  self-reliant  and  God-defying  energy 
of  the  descendants  of  Cain  that  we  owe  much  of  the 
external  civilisation  of  the  world.  While  the  descen- 
dants of  Seth  pass  away  and  leave  only  this  record,  that 
they  "  walked  with  God,"  there  are  found  among  Cain's 
descendants,  builders  of  cities,  inventors  of  tools  and 
weapons,  music  and  poetry  and  the  beginnings  of 
culture. 

These  two  opposed  lines  are  in  the  first  instance 
represented  by  Cain  and  Abel.  With  each  child  that 
comes  into  the  world  some  fresh  hope  is  brought ;  and 
the   name  of  Cain    points    to    the    expectation    of   his 


30  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

parents  that  in  him  a  fresh  start  would  be  made.  Alas ! 
as  the  boy  grew  they  saw  how  vain  such  expectation 
was  and  how  truly  their  nature  had  passed  into  his, 
and  how  no  imparted  experience  of  theirs,  taught  him 
from  without,  could  countervail  the  strong  propensities 
to  evil  which  impelled  him  from  within.  They  experi- 
enced that  bitterest  punishment  which  parents  undergo, 
when  they  see  their  own  defects  and  infirmities  and  evil 
passions  repeated  in  their  children  and  leading  them 
astray  as  they  once  led  themselves ;  when  in  those  who 
are  to  perpetuate  their  name  and  remembrance  on  earth 
they  see  evidence  that  their  faults  also  will  be  perpetu- 
ated ;  when  in  those  whom  they  chiefly  love  they  have 
a  mirror  ceaselessly  held  up  to  them  forcing  them  to 
remember  the  follies  and  sins  of  their  own  youth.  Cer- 
tainly in  the  proud,  self-willed,  sullen  Cain  no  redemp- 
tion was  to  be  found. 

Both  sons  own  the  necessity  of  labour.  Man  is  no 
longer  in  the  primitive  condition,  in  which  he  had  only 
to  stretch  out  his  hand  when  hungry,  and  satisfy  his 
appetite.  There  are  still  some  regions  of  the  earth  in 
which  the  trees  shower  fruit,  nutritious  and  easily  pre- 
served, on  men  who  shun  labour.  Were  this  the  case 
throughout  the  world,  the  whole  of  life  would  be  changed. 
Had  we  been  created  self-sufHcing  or  in  such  conditions 
as  involved  no  necessity  of  toil,  nothing  would  be  as  it 
now  is.  It  is  the  need  of  labour  that  implies  occasional 
starvation  and  frequent  poverty,  and  gives  occasion  to 
charity.  It  is  the  need  of  labour  which  involves  com- 
merce and  thereby  sows  the  seed  of  greed,  worldliness, 
ambition,  drudgery.  The  ultimate  physical  wants  of 
men,  food  and  clothes,  are  the  motive  of  the  greater 
part  of  all  human  activity.  Trace  to  their  causes  the 
various    industries  of  men,  the  wars,  the   great  social 


Gen.  iv.]  CAIN  AND  ABEL. 


movements,  all  that  constitutes  history,  and  you  find 
that  the  bulk  of  all  that  is  done  upon  earth  is  done 
because  men  must  have  food  and  wish  to  have  it  as 
good  and  with  as  little  labour  as  possible.  The  broad 
facts  of  human  life  are  in  many  respects  humiliating. 

The  disposition  of  men  is  consequently  shown  in  the 
occupations  they  choose  and  the  idea  of  life  they  carry 
into  them.  Some,  like  Abel,  choose  peaceful  callings 
that  draw  out  feeling  and  sympathy ;  others  prefer 
pursuits  which  are  stirring  and  active.  Cain  chose  the 
tillage  of  the  ground,  partly  no  doubt  from  the  necessity 
of  the  case,  but  probably  also  with  the  feeling  that  he 
could  subdue  nature  to  his  own  purposes  notwith- 
standing the  curse  that  lay  upon  it.  Do  we  not  all 
sometimes  feel  a  desire  to  take  the  world  as  it  is,  curse 
and  all,  and  make  the  most  of  it ;  to  face  its  disease 
with  human  skill,  its  disturbing  and  destructive  elements 
with  human  forethought  and  courage,  its  sterility  and 
stubbornness  with  human  energy  and  patience  ?  What 
is  stimulating  men  still  to  all  discovery  and  invention, 
to  forewarn  seamen  of  coming  storms,  to  bfeak  a  pre- 
carious passage  for  commerce  through  eternal  ice  or 
through  malarious  swamps,  to  make  life  at  all  points 
easier  and  more  secure  ?  Is  it  not  the  energy  which 
opposition  excites  ?  We  know  that  it  will  be  hard 
work ;  we  expect  to  have  thorns  and  thistles  every- 
where, but  let  us  see  whether  this  may  not  after  all  be 
a  thoroughly  happy  world,  whether  we  cannot  cultivate 
the  curse  altogether  out  of  it.  This  is  indeed  the  very 
work  God  has  given  man  to  do — to  subdue  the  earth 
and  make  the  desert  blossom  as  the  rose.  God  is  with 
us  in  this  work,  and  he  who  believes  in  God's  purpose 
and  strives  to  reclaim  nature  and  compel  it  to  some 
better  products  than  it  naturally  yields,  is  doing  God's 


32  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

work  in  the  world.  The  misery  is  that  so  many  do  it 
in  the  spirit  of  Cain,  in  a  spirit  of  self-confident  or 
sullen  alienation  from  God,  willing  to  endure  all  hard- 
ship but  unable  to  lay  themselves  at  God's  feet  with 
every  capacity  for  work  and  every  field  He  has  given 
them  to  till  for  Him  and  in  a  spirit  of  humble  love  to 
co-operate  with  Him.  To  this  spirit  of  godless  energy, 
of  merely  selfish  or  worldly  ambition  and  enterprise, 
the  world  owes  not  only  much  of  its  poverty  and  many 
of  its  greatest  disasters,  but  also  the  greater  part  of  its 
present  advantages  in  external  civilisation.  .  But  from 
this  spirit  can  never  arise  the  meekness,  the  patience, 
the  tenderness,  the  charity  which  sweeten  the  life  of 
society  and  are  more  to  be  desired  than  gold  ;  from  this 
spirit  and  all  its  achievements  the  natural  outcome  is 
the  proud,  vindictive,  self-glorifying  war-song  of  a 
Lamech. 

The  incompatibility  of  the  two  lines  and  the  per- 
secuting spirit  of  the  godless  are  set  forth  by  the  after 
history  of  Cain  and  Abel.  The  one  line  is  represented 
in  Cain,  who  with  all  his  energy  and  indomitable 
courage,  is  depicted  as  of  a  dark,  morose,  suspicious, 
jealous,  violent  temper  ;  a  man  born  under  the  shadow 
of  the  fall.  Abel  is  described  in  contrast  as  guileless 
and  sunny,  free  from  harshness  and  resentment.  What 
was  in  Cain  was  shown  by  what  came  out  of  him, 
murder.  The  reason  of  the  rejection  of  hfs  offering 
was  his  own  evil  condition  of  heart.  "  If  thou  doest 
well,  shalt  not  thou  also  be  accepted  ;  "  implying  that  he 
was  not  accepted  because  he  was  not  doing  well.  His 
offering  was  a  mere  form  ;  he  complied  with  the  fashion 
/  of  the  family  ;  but  in  spirit  he  was  alienated  from  God, 
cherishing  thoughts  which  the  rejection  of  his  offering 
brings  to  a  head.     He  may  have  seen  that  the  younger 


Gen.  iv.]  CAIN  AND  ABEL.  33 

son  won  more  of  the  parents'  affection,  that  his  company 
was  more  welcome.  Jealousy  had  been  produced,  that 
deep  jealousy  of  the  humble  and  godly  which  proud 
men  of  the  world  cannot  help  betraying  and  which  has 
so  very  often  in  the  world's  history  produced  perse- 
cution. 

This  cannot  be  considered  too  weak  a  motive  to 
carry  so  enormous  a  crime.  Even  in  a  highly  civilised 
age  we  find  an  English  statesman  saying  :  "  Pique  is 
one  of  the  strongest  motives  in  the  human  mind.  Fear 
is  strong  but  transient.  Interest  is  more  lasting, 
perhaps,  and  steady,  but  weaker ;  I  will  ever  back 
pique  against  them  both.  It  is  the  spur  the  devil  rides 
the  noblest  tempers  with,  and  will  do  more  work  with 
them  in  a  week,  than  with  other  poor  jades  in  a  twelve- 
month." And  the  age  of  Cain  and  Abel  was  an  age 
in  which  impulse  and  action  lay  close  together,  and  in 
which  jealousy  is  notoriously  strong.  To  this  motive 
John  ascribes  the  act :  "  Wherefore  slew  he  him  ? 
Because  his  own  works  were  evil,  and  his  brother's 
righteous." 

We  have  now  learned  better  how  to  disguise  our 
feelings ;  and  we  are  compelled  to  control  them  better ; 
but  now  and  again  we  meet  with  a  deep-seated  hatred 
of  goodness  which  might  give  rise  to  almost  any  crime. 
Few  of  us  can  say  that  for  our  own  part  we  have 
extinguished  within  us  the  spirit  that  disparages  and 
depreciates  and  fixes  the  charge  of  hypocrisy  or  refers 
good  actions  to  interested  motives,  searches  out  failings 
and  watches  for  baitings  and  is  glad  when  a  blot  is 
found.  Few  are  filled  with  unalloyed  grief  when  the 
man  who  has  borne  an  extraordinary  reputation  turns 
out  to  be  just  like  the  rest  of  us.  Many  of  us  have  a 
true  delight  in  goodness  and  humble  ourselves  before  it 

3 


34  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


when  we  see  it,  and  yet  we  know  also  what  it  is  to  be 
exasperated  by  the  presence  of  superiority.  I  have 
seen  a  schoolboy  interrupt  his  brother's  prayers,  and 
gird  at  him  for  his  piety,  and  strive  to  draw  him  into 
sin,  and  do  the  devil's  work  with  zest  and  diligence. 
And  where  goodness  is  manifestly  in  the  minority  how 
constantly  does  it  excite  hatred  that  pours  itself  out  in 
sneers  and  ridicule  and  ignorant  calumny. 

But  this  narrative  significantly  refers  this  early 
quarrel  to  religion.  There  is  no  bitterness  to  compare 
with  that  which  worldly  men  who  profess  religion,  feel 
towards  those  who  cultivate  a  spiritual  leligion.  They 
can  never  really  grasp  the  distinction  between  external 
worship  and  real  godhness.  They  make  their  offerings, 
they  attend  to  the  rites  of  the  religion  to  which  they 
belong  and  are  beside  themselves  with  indignation  if 
any  person  or  event  suggests  to  them  that  they  might 
have  saved  themselves  all  their  trouble,  because  these  do 
not  at  all  constitute  religion.  They  uphold  the  Church, 
they  admire  and  praise  her  beautiful  services,  they 
use  strong  but  meaningless  language  about  infidelity, 
and  yet  when  brought  in  contact  with  spirituality  and 
assured  that  regeneration  and  penitent  humility  are 
required  above  all  else  in  the  kingdom  of  God,  they 
betray  an  utter  inability  to  comprehend  the  very  rudi- 
ments of  the  Christian  religion.  Abel  has  always  to 
go  to  the  wall  because  he  is  always  the  weaker  party, 
always  in  the  minority.  Spiritual  religion,  from  the 
very  nature  of  the  case,  must  always  be  in  the  min- 
ority ;  and  must  be  prepared  to  suffer  loss,  calumny, 
and  violence,  at  the  hands  of  the  worldly  religious,  who 
have  contrived  for  themselves  a  worship  that  calls  for 
no  humiliation  before  God  and  no  complete  surrender 
of  heart  and  will    to  Him.     Cain   is  the  type  of  the 


Gen.  iv.]  CAIN  AND  ABEL.  35 

ignorant  religious,  of  the  unregenerate  man  who  thinks 
he  merits  God's  favour  as  much  as  any  one  else ;  and 
Cain's  conduct  is  the  type  of  the  treatment  which  the 
Christ-like  and  intelligent  godly  are  always  likely  to 
receive  at  such  hands. 

We  never  know  where  we  may  be  led  by  jealousy 
and  malice.  One  of  the  striking  features  of  this  inci- 
dent is  the  rapidity  with  which  small  sins  generate 
great  ones.  When  Cain  went  in  the  joy  of  harvest 
and  offered  his  first  fruits  no  thought  could  be  further 
from  his  mind  than  murder.  It  may  have  come  as 
suddenly  on  himself  as  on  the  unsuspecting  Abel, 
but  the  germ  was  in  him.  Great  sins  are  not  so  sudden 
as  they  seem.  Familiarity  with  evil  thought  ripens  us 
for  evil  action  ;  and  a  moment  of  passion,  an  hour's  loss 
of  self-control,  a  tempting  occasion,  may  hurry  us  into 
irremediable  evil.  And  even  though  this  does  not 
happen,  envious,  uncharitable,  and  malicious  thoughts 
make  our  offerings  as  distasteful  as  Cain's.  He  that 
loveth  not  his  brother  knoweth  not  God.  First  be  re- 
conciled to  thy  brother,  says  our  Lord,  and  then  come 
and  offer  thy  gift. 

Other  truths  are  incidentally  taught  in  this  narrative. 

(i)  The  acceptance  of  the  offering  depends  on  the 
acceptance  of  the  offerer.  God  had  respect  to  Abel 
and  his  offering — the  man  first  and  then  the  offering. 
God  looks  through  the  offering  ':o  the  state  of  soul  from 
which  it  proceeds  ;  or  even,  as  the  words  would  in- 
dicate, sees  the  soul  first  and  judges  and  treats  the 
offering  according  to  the  inwarc  disposition.  God  does 
not  judge  of  what  you  are  by  v>  hat  you  say  to  Him  or 
do  for  Him,  but  He  judges  wha'  you  say  to  Him  and  do 
for  Him  by  what  you  are.  '  '^y  failh  "  says  a  New 
Testament  writer,    "  Abel    offered    a    more    acceptable 


36  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

sacrifice  than  Cain."  He  had  the  faith  which  enabled 
him  to  beheve  that  God  is,  and  that  He  is  a  rewarder  of 
them  that  diligently  seek  Him.  His  attitude  towards 
God  was  sound  ;  his  life  was  a  diligent  seeking  to  please 
God  ;  and  from  all  such  persons  God  gladly  receives 
v'  acknowledgment.  When  the  offering  is  the  true  ex- 
pression of  the  soul's  gratitude,  love,  devotedness,  then 
it  is  acceptable.  When  it  is  a  merely  external  offering, 
that  rather  veils  than  expresses  the  real  feeling ;  when 
it  is  not  vivified  and  rendered  significant  by  any  spi- 
ritual act  on  the  part  of  the  worshipper,  it  is  plainly 
of  no  effect. 

What  is  true  of  all  sacrifices  is  true  of  the  sacrifice 
of  Christ.  It  remains  invalid  and  of  none  effect  to 
those  who  do  not  through  it  yield  themselves  to  God. 
Sacrifices  were  intended  to  be  the  embodiment  and 
expression^  of  a  state  of  feeling  towards  God,  of  a 
submission  or  offering  of  men's  selves  to  God  ;  of  a 
return  to  that  right  relation  which  ought  ever  to 
subsist  between  creature  and  Creator.  Christ's  sac- 
rifice is  valid  for  us  when  it  is  that  outward  thing 
which  best  expresses  our  feeling  towards  God  and 
through  which  we  offer  or  yield  ourselves  to  God.  His 
sacrifice  is  the  open  door  through  which  God  freely 
admits  all  who  aim  at  a  consecration  and  obedience 
like  to  His.  It  is  valid  for  us  when  through  it  we 
sacrifice  ourselves.  Whatever  His  sacrifice  expresses 
we  desire  to  take  and  use  as  the  only  satisfactory 
expression  of  our  own  aims  and  desires.  Did  Christ 
perfectly  submit  to  and  fulfil  the  will  of  God  ?  So 
would  we.  Did  He  acknowledge  the  infinite  evil  of  sin 
and  patiently  bear  its  penalties,  still  loving  the  Holy 
and  Righteous  God  ?  So  would  we  endure  all  chasten- 
ing, and  still  resist  unto  blood  striving  against  sin. 


Gen.  iv.]  CAIN  AND  ABEL.  37 

(2)  Again,  we  here  find  a  very  sharp  and  clear  state- 
ment of  the  welcome  truth,  that  continuance  in  sin  is 
never  a  necessity,  that  God  points  the  way  out  of  sin, 
and  that  from  the  first  He  has  been  on  man's  side  and 
has  done  all  that  could  be  done  to  keep  men  from 
sinning.  Observe  how  He  expostulates  with  Cain. 
Take  note  of  the  plain,  explicit  fairness  of  the  words 
in  which  He  expostulates  with  him — instance,  as  it  is,  of 
how  absolutely  in  the  right  God  always  is,  and  how 
abundantly  He  can  justify  all  His  dealings  with  us,  God 
says  as  it  were  to  Cain  ;  Come  now  :  and  let  us  reason 
together.  All  God  wants  of  any  man  is  to  be  reasonable  ; 
to  look  at  the  facts  of  the  case.  "  If  thou  doest  well, 
shalt  thou  not  (as  well  as  Abel)  be  accepted?  and  if  thou 
doest  not  well,  sin  lieth  at  the  door,"  that  is,  if  thou 
doest  not  well,  the  sin  is  not  Abel's  nor  any  one's  but 
thine  own,  and  therefore  anger  at  another  is  not  the 
proper  remedy,  but  anger  at  yourself,  and  repentance. 

No  language  could  more  forcibly  exhibit  the  unreason- 
ableness of  not  meeting  God  with  penitent  and  humble 
acknowledgment.  God  has  fully  met  our  case,  and 
has  satisfied  all  its  demands,  has  set  Himself  to  serve 
us  and  laid  Himself  out  to  save  us  pain  and  misery, 
and  has  so  entirely  succeeded  in  making  salvation  and 
blessedness  possible  to  us,  that  if  we  continue  in 
sin  we  must  trample  not  only  upon  God's  love  and 
our  own  reason,  but  on  the  very  means  of  salvation. 
State  your  case  at  the  worst,  bring  forward  every 
reason  why  your  countenance  should  be  fallen  as 
Cain's  and  why  your  face  should  lower  with  the  gloom 
of  eternal  despair — say  that  you  have  as  clear  evidence 
as  Cain  had  that  your  offerings  are  displeasing  to  God, 
and  that  while  others  are  accepted  you  receive  no 
token  from   Him, — in   answer  to  all  your  arguments, 


38  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

these  words  addressed  to  Cain  rise  up.  If  not  ac- 
cepted already  you  have  the  means  of  being  so.  If 
3^ou  do  well  to  be  hardened  in  sin  it  is  not  because  it 
is  necessary,  nor  because  God  desires  it.  If  you  are 
to  continue  in  sin  you  must  put  aside  His  hand.  It 
can  only  be  sin  which  causes  you  either  to  despair  of 
salvation  or  keeps  you  any  way  separate  from  God — 
there  is  no  other  thing  worse  than  sin,  and  for  sin 
there  is  an  offering  provided.  You  have  not  fallen  into 
some  lower  grade  of  beings  than  that  which  is  desig- 
nated sinners,  and  it  is  sinners  that  God  in  His  mercy 
hems  in  with  this  inevitable  dilemma  He  presented  to 
Cain. 

If,  therefore,  you  continue  at  war  with  God  it  is  not 
because  you  must  not  do  otherwise  :  if  you  go  forward 
to  any  new  thought,  plan,  or  action  unpardoned  ;  if 
acceptance  of  God's  forgiveness  and  entrance  into  a 
state  of  reconciliation  with  Him  be  not  your  first  action, 
then  you  must  thrust  aside  His  counsel,  backed  though 
it  is  with  every  utterance  of  your  own  reason.  Some 
of  us  may  be  this  day  or  this  week  in  as  critical  a 
position  as  Cain,  having  as  truly  as  he  the  making  or 
marring  of  our  future  in  our  hands,  seeing  clearly  the 
right  course,  and  all  that  is  good,  humble,  penitent  and 
wise  in  us  urging  us  to  follow  that  course,  but  our 
pride  and  self-will  holding  us  back.  How  often  do 
men  thus  barter  a  future  of  blessing  for  some  mean 
gratification  of  temper  or  lust  or  pride  ;  how  often  by 
a  reckless,  almost  listless  and  indifferent  continuance 
in  sin  do  they  let  themselves  be  carried  on  to  a  future 
as  woful  as  Cain's  ;  how  often  when  God  expostulates 
with  them  do  they  make  no  answer  and  take  no  action, 
as  if  there  were  nothing  to  be  gained  by  listening  to 
God — as  if  it  were  a   matter  of  no  importance  what 


Gen.  iv.]  CAIN  AND  ABEL.  39 

future  I  go  to — as  if  in  the  whole  eternity  that  lies  in 
reserve  there  were  nothing  worth  making  a  choice 
about — nothing  about  which  it  is  worth  my  while  to 
rouse  the  whole  energy  of  which  I  am  capable,  and  to 
make,  by  God's  grace,  the  determination  which  shall 
alter  my  whole  future — to  choose  for  myself  and  assert 
myself. 

(3)  The  writer  to  the  Hebrews  makes  a  very  striking 
use  of  this  event.  He  borrows  from  it  language  in 
which  to  magnify  the  efficacy  of  Christ's  sacrifice,  and 
affirms  that  the  blood  of  Christ  speaketh  better  things, 
or,  as  it  must  rather  be  rendered,  crieth  louder  than 
the  blood  of  Abel.  Abel's  blood,  we  see,  cried  for 
vengeance,  for  evil  things  for  Cain,  called  God  to  make 
inquisition  for  blood,  and  so  pled  as  to  secure  the 
banishment  of  the  "  urderer.  The  Arabs  have  a  belief 
that  over  the  grave  of  a  murdered  man  his  spirit  hovers 
in  the  form  of  a  bird  that  cries  "  Give  me  drink,  give 
me  drink,"  and  only  ceases  when  the  blood  of  the 
murderer  is  shed.  Cain's  conscience  told  him  the 
same  thing;  there  was  no  criminal  law  threatening 
death  to  the  murderer,  but  he  felt  that  men  would 
kill  him  if  they  could.  He  heard  the  blood  of  Abel 
crying  from  the  earth.  The  blood  of  Christ  also  cries 
to  God,  but  cries  not  for  vengeance  but  for  pardon. 
And  as  surely  as  the  one  cry  was  heard  and  answered 
in  very  substantial  results  ;  so  surely  does  the  other 
cry  call  down  from  heaven  its  proper  and  beneficent 
effects.  It  is  as  if  the  earth  would  not  receive  and 
cover  the  blood  of  Christ,  but  ever  exposes  it  before 
God  and  cries  to  Him  to  be  faithful  and  just  to  forgive 
us  our  sins.  This  blood  cries  louder  than  the  other. 
If  God  could  not  overlook  the  blood  of  one  of  His 
servants,  but  adjudged  to  it   its  proper  consequences, 


40  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

neither  is  it  possible  that  He  should  overlook  the  blood 
of  His  Son  and  not  give  to  it  its  proper  result. 

If  then  you  feel  in  your  conscience  that  you  are  as 
guilty  as  Cain,  and  if  sins  clamour  around  you  which 
are  as  dangerous  as*  his,  and  which  cry  out  for  judg- 
ment upon  you,  accept  the  assurance  that  the  blood 
of  Christ  has  a  yet  louder  try  for  mercy.  If  you  had 
been  Abel's  murderer,  would  you  have  been  justly 
afraid  of  God's  anger?  Be  as  sure  of  God's  mercy 
now.  If  you  had  stood  over  his  lifeless  body  and 
seen  the  earth  refusing  to  cover  his  blood,  if  you  felt 
the  stain  of  it  crimson  on  your  conscience  and  if  by 
night  you  started  from  your  sleep  striving  vainly  to 
wash  it  from  your  hands,  if  by  every  token  you  felt 
yourself  exposed  to  a  just  punishment,  your  fear  would 
be  just  and  reasonable  were  nothing  else  revealed  to 
you.  But  there  is  another  blood  equally  indelible, 
equally  clamorous.  In  it  you  have  in  reality  what  is 
elsewhere  pretended  in  fable,  that  the  blood  of  the 
murdered  man  will  not  wash  out,  but  through  every 
cleansing  oozes  up  again  a  dark  stain  on  the  oaken 
floor.  This  blood  can  really  not  be  washed  out,  it 
cannot  be  covered  up  and  hid  from  God's  eye,  its  voice 
cannot  be  stifled,  and  its  cry  is  all  for  mercy. 

With  how  different  a  meaning  then  comes  now  to 
us  this  question  of  God's:  "Where  is  thy  brother?" 
Our  Brother  also  is  slain.  Him  Whom  God  sent 
among  us  to  reverse  the  curse,  to  lighten  the  burden 
of  this  life,  to  be  the  loving  member  of  the  family  on 
Whom  each  leans  for  help  and  looks  to  for  counsel  and 
comfort — Him  Who  was  by  His  goodness  to  be  as  the 
dayspring  from  on  high  in  our  darkness,  we  found  too 
good  for  our'  endurance  and  dealt  with  as  Cain  dealt 
with  his  more  righteous  brother.     But  He  Whom  we 


Gen.  iv.]  CAIN  AND  ABEL.  41 

slew  God  has  raised  again  to  give  repentance  and 
remission  of  sins,  and  assures  us  that  His  blood 
cleanseth  from  all  sin.  To  every  one  therefore  He 
repeats  this  question,  "Where  is  thy  brother?"  He 
repeats  it  to  every  one  who  is  living  with  a  conscience 
stained  with  sin  ;  to  every  one  that  knows  remorse  and 
walks  with  the  hanging  head  of  shame  ;  to  every  one 
whose  whole  life  is  saddened  by  the  consciousness  that 
all  is  not  settled  between  God  and  himself;  to  every 
one  who  is  sinning  recklessly  as  if  Christ's  blood  had 
never  been  shed  for  sin  ;  and  to  every  one  who,  though 
seeking  to  be  at  peace  with  God,  is  troubled  and  down- 
cast— to  all  God  says,  "  Where  is  thy  brother  ?  "  ten- 
derly reminding  us  of  the  absolute  satisfaction  for  sin 
that  has  been  made,  and  of  the  hope  towards  God  we 
have  through  the  blood  of  His  Son. 


IV. 

CAIN'S  LINE,   AND  ENOCH. 
Geni  SIS  iv.  12-24. 

"  1\  /r  Y  punishment  is  greater  than  I  can  bear,"  so 
J.VX  felt  Cain  as  snon  as  his  passion  had  spent 
itself  and  the  consequences  of  his  wickedness  became 
apparent — and  so  feels  every  one  who  finds  he  has  now 
to  live  in  the  presence  of  the  irrevocable  deed  he  has 
done.  It  seems  too  heavy  a  penalty  to  endure  for  the 
one  hour  of  passion  ;  and  yet  as  little  as  Cain  could 
rouse  the  dead  Abel  so  little  can  we  revive  the  past  we 
have  destroyed.  Thoughtlessness  has  set  in  motion 
agencies  we  are  powerless  to  control ;  the  whole 
world  is  changed  to  us.  One  can  fancy  Cain  turning 
to  see  if  his  victim  gave  no  sign  of  life,  striving  to 
reanimate  the  dead  body,  calling  the  familiar  name,  but 
only  to  see  with  growing  dismay  that  the  one  blow  had 
finished  all  with  which  that  name  was  associated,  and 
that  he  had  made  himself  a  new  world.  So  are  we 
drawn  back  and  back  in  thought  to  that  which  has  for 
ever  changed  life  to  us,  striving  to  see  if  there  is  no 
possibility  of  altering  the  past,  but  only  to  find  we 
might  quite  as  well  try  to  raise  the  dead.  No  voice 
responds  to  our  cries  of  grief  and  dismay  and  too  late 
repentance.  All  life  now  seems  but  a  reaping  (f.  the 
consequences  of  the  past.     We  have  put  ourselves  in 


Gen.  iv.  12-24.]      CAIN'S  LINE,   AND  ENOCH.  43 

every  respect  at  a  disadvantage.  The  earth  seems 
cursed  so  that  we  are  hampered  in  our  employments 
and  cannot  make  as  much  of  them  as  we  would  had 
we  been  innocent.  We  have  got  out  of  right  relations 
to  our  fellow-men  and  cannot  feel  the  same  to  them  as 
we  ought  to  feel ;  and  the  face  of  God  is  hid  from  us, 
so  that  now  and  again  as  time  after  time  our  hopes  are 
blighted,  our  life  darkened  and  disturbed  by  the  obvious 
results  of  our  own  past  deeds,  we  are  tempted  to  cry  out 
with  Cain:  "My  punishment  is  greater  than  I  can  bear." 

Yet  Cain's  punishment  was  less  than  he  expected. 
He  was  not  put  to  death  as  he  would  have  been  at  any 
later  period  of  the  world's  history,  but  was  banished. 
And  even  this  punishment  was  lightened  by  his  having 
a  token  from  God,  that  he  would  not  be  put  to  death 
by  any  zealous  avenger  of  Abel.  He  would  experience 
the  hardships  of  a  man  entering  unexplored  territory, 
but  to  an  enterprising  spirit  this  would  not  be  without 
its  charms.  As  the  fresh  beauties  of  the  world's  youth 
were  disclosed  to  him  and  by  their  bright  and  peaceful 
friendliness  allayed  the  bitterness  of  his  spirit,  and  as 
the  mysteries  and  dangers  of  the  new  regions  excited 
him  and  called  his  thoughts  from  the  past,  some  of  the 
old  delight  in  life  may  have  been  recovered  by  him. 
Probably  in  many  a  lonely  hour  the  recollection  of  his 
crime  would  return  and  with  it  all  the  horrors  of  a 
remorse  which  would  drive  rest  and  peace  from  his 
soul,  and  render  him  the  most  wretched  of  men.  But 
busied  as  he  was  with  his  new  enterprises,  there  is  little 
doubt  that  he  would  find  it,  as  it  is  still  found,  not  im- 
possible to  banish  such  dreary  thoughts  and  live  in  the 
measure  of  contentment  which  many  enjoy  who  are  as 
far  from  God  as  Cain. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  detect  the  spirit  he  carried  with 


44  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

him,  and  the  tone  he  gave  to  his  Hne  of  the  race.  The 
facts  recorded  are  few  but  significant.  He  begat  a  son, 
he  built  a  city ;  and  he  gave  to  both  the  name  Enoch, 
that  is  "initiation,"  or  "beginning,"  as  if  he  were  say- 
ing in  his  heart,  "What  so  great  harm  after  all  in 
cutting  short  one  line  in  Abel  ?  I  can  begin  another 
and  find  a  new  starting  point  for  the  race.  I  am  driven 
forth  cursed  as  a  vagabond,  but  a  vagabond  I  will  not 
be  ;  I  will  make  for  myself  a  settled  abode,  and  I  will 
fence  it  round  v/ith  knife-blade  thorns  so  that  no  man 
will  be  able  to  assault  me." 

In  this  settling  of  Cain,  however,  we  see  not  any 
symptom  of  his  ceasing  to  be  a  vagabond,  but  the 
surest  evidence  that  now  he  was  content  to  be  a  fugitive 
from  God  and  had  cut  himself  off  from  hope.  His 
heart  had  found  rest  and  had  found  it  apart  from  God. 
Here,  in  this  city  he  would  make  a  fresh  beginning  for 
himself  and  for  men.  Here  he  abandoned  all  clinging 
memories  of  former  things,  of  his  old  home  and  of  the 
God  there  worshipped.  He  had  wisdom  enough  not 
to  call  his  city  by  his  own  name,  and  so  invite  men  to 
consider  his  former  career  or  trace  back  anything  to  his 
old  life.  He  cut  it  all  off"  from  him  ;  his  crime,  his  God 
also,  all  that  w^as  in  it  was  to  be  no  more  to  him  and 
his  comrades.  He  would  make  a  clean  start,  and  that 
men  might  be  led  to  expect  a  great  future  he  called  his 
city,  Enoch,  a  Beginning. 

But  it  is  one  thing  to  forgive  ourselves,  another  thing 
to  have  God's  forgiveness.  It  is  one  thing  to  reconcile 
ourselves  to  the  curse  that  runs  through  our  life, 
another  thing  to  be  reconciled  to  God  and  so  defeat  the 
curse.  It  is  sometimes,  though  by  no  means  always, 
possible  to  escape  some  of  the  consequences  of  sin  :  we 
can  change  our  front  so  as  to  lessen  the  breadth  of  life 


Gen.  iv.  12-24.]     CAIN  S  LINE,   AND  ENOCH.  45 

that  is  exposed  to  them,  or  we  can  accustom  and  harden 
ourselves  to  a  very  second-rate  kind  of  hfe.  We  can 
teach  ourselves  to  live  without  much  love  in  our  homes 
or  in  our  connections  with  those  outside ;  we  can  learn 
to  be  satisfied  if  we  can  pay  our  way  and  make  the  time 
pass  and  be  outwardly  like  other  people  ;  we  can  build 
a  little  city,  and  be  content  to  be  on  no  very  friendly 
terms  with  any  but  the  select  few  inside  the  trench,  and 
actually  be  quite  satisfied  if  we  can  defend  ourselves 
against  the  rest  of  men  ;  we  can  forget  the  one  com- 
mandment, that  we  should  love  one  another.  We  can 
all  find  much  in  the  world  to  comfort,  to  lull,  to  soothe 
sorrowful  but  wholesome  remembrances  ;  much  to  aid 
us  in  an  easy  treatment  of  the  curse  ;  much  to  shed 
superficial  brightness  on  a  life  darkened  and  debased 
by  sin,  much  to  hush  up  the  sad  echoes  that  mutter 
from  the  dark  mountains  of  vanity  we  have  left  behind 
us,  much  that  assures  us  we  have  nothing  to  do  but 
forget  our  old  sins  and  busily  occupy  ourselves  with 
new  duties.  But  no  David  will  say,  nor  will  any  man 
of  true  spiritual  discernment  say,  "  Blessed  is  the  man 
whose  transgression  \s  forgotten;"  but  only,  "Blessed 
is  the  man  whose  transgression  is  forgiven."  By  all 
means  make  a  fresh  start,  a  new  beginning,  but  let 
it  be  in  your  own  broken  heart,  in  a  spirit  humble 
and  contrite,  frankly  acknowledging  your  guilt  and 
finding  rest  and  settlement  for  your  soul  in  reconcilia- 
tion with  God. 

It  is  in  the  family  of  Lamech  the  characteristics  of 
Cain's  line  are  most  distinctly  seen,  and  the  significance 
of  their  tendencies  becomes  apparent.  As  Cain  had  set 
himself  to  cultivate  the  curse  out  of  the  world,  so  have 
his  children  derived  from  him  the  self-reliant  hardiness 
and  hardihood  which  are  resolute  to  make  of  this  world 


46  TtiE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

as  bright  and  happy  a  home  as  may  be.  They  make 
it  their  task  to  subdue  the  world  and  compel  it  to  yield 
them  a  life  in  which  they  can  delight.  They  are  so  far 
successful  that  in  a  few  generations  they  have  formed 
a  home  in  which  all  the  essentials  of  civilized  life  are 
found — the  arts  are  cultivated  and  female  society  is 
appreciated. 

Of  his  three  sons,  Jabal — or  "Increase" — was  "the 
father  of  such  as  dwell  in  tents  and  of  such  as  have 
cattle."  He  had  originality  enough  to  step  beyond  all 
traditional  habits  and  to  invent  a  new  mode  of  life. 
Hitherto  men  had  been  tied  to  one  spot  by  their  fixed 
habitations,  or  found  shelter  when  overtaken  by 
storm  in  caves  or  trees.  To  Jabal  the  idea  first  occurs, 
I  can  carry  my  house  about  with  me  and  regulate  its 
movements  and  not  it  mine.  I  need  not  return  every 
night  this  long  weary  way  from  the  pastures,  but  may 
go  wherever  grass  is  green  and  streams  run  cool.  He 
and  his  comrades  would  thus  become  aware  of  the  vast 
resources  of  other  lands,  and  would  unconsciously  lay 
the  foundations  both  of  commerce  and  of  wars  of 
conquest.  For  both  in  ancient  and  more  modern  times 
the  most  formidable  armies  have  been  those  vast 
moving  shepherd  races  bred  outside  the  borders  of 
civilization  and  flooding  as  with  an  irresistible  tide  the 
territories  of  more  settled  and  less  hardy  tribes. 

Jubal  again  was,  as  his  name  denotes,  the  reputed 
father  of  all  such  as  handle  the  harp  and  the  organ, 
stringed  and  wind  instruments.  The  stops  of  the 
reed  or  flute  and  the  divisions  of  the  string  being  once 
discovered,  all  else  necessarily  followed.  The  twanging 
of  a  bow-string  in  a  musical  ear  was  enough  to  give 
the  suggestion  to  an  observant  mind ;  the  varying 
notes  of  the  birds  ;  the  winds  expressing  at  one  time 


Gen.  iv.  12-24.]     CAIN'S  LINE,   AND  ENOCH.  47 

unbridled  fury  and  at  another  a  breathing  benediction, 
could  not  fail  to  move  and  stir  the  susceptible  spirit. 
The  spontaneous  though  untuned  singing  of  children, 
that  follows  no  mere  melody  made  by  another  to 
express  his  joy,  but  is  the  instinctive  expression  of 
their  own  joy,  could  not  but  give  however  meagrely 
the  first  rudiments  of  music.  But  here  was  the  man 
who  first  made  a  piece  of  wood  help  him ;  who  out  of 
the  commonest  material  of  the  physical  world  found  for 
himself  a  means  of  expressing  the  most  impalpable 
moods  of  his  spirit.  Once  the  idea  was  caught  that 
matter  inanimate  as  well  as  animate  was  man's  servant 
and  could  do  his  finest  work  for  him,  Jabal  and  his 
brother  Jubal  would  make  rapid  work  between  them. 
If  the  rude  matter  of  the  world  could  sing  for  them, 
what  might  it  not  do  for  them  ?  They  would  see  that 
there  was  a  precision  in  machine-work  which  man's 
hand  could  not  rival — a  regularity  which  no  nervous 
throb  could  throw  out  and  no  feeling  interrupt,  and 
yet  at  the  same  time  when  they  found  how  these  rude 
instruments  responded  to  every  finest  shade  of  feeling, 
and  how  all  external  nature  seemed  able  to  express 
what  was  in  man,  must  it  not  have  been  the  birth  of 
poetry  as  well  as  of  music  ?  Jubal  in  short  originates 
what  we  now  compendiously  describe  as  the  Fine 
Arts. 

The  third  brother  again  may  be  taken  as  the  origi- 
nator of  the  Useful  Arts — though  not  exclusively — for 
being  the  instructor  of  every  artificer  in  brass  and  iron, 
having  something  of  his  brother's  genius  for  invention 
and  more  than  his  brother's  handiness  and  practical 
faculty  for  embodying  his  ideas  in  material  forms,  he 
must  have  promoted  all  arts  which  require  tools  for 
their  culture. 


48  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

Thus  among  these  three  brothers  we  find  distributed 
the  various  kinds  of  genius  and  faculty  which  ever  since 
have  enriched  the  world.  Here  in  germ  was  really 
all  that  the  world  can  do.  The  great  lines  in  which 
individual  and  social  activity  have  since  run  were 
then  laid  down. 

This  notable  family  circle  was  completed  by  Naamah, 
the  sister  of  Tubal-Cain.     The  strength  of  female  in- 
fluence began  to  be  felt    contemporaneously  with  the 
cultivation    of  the   arts.     Very   early    in    the    world's 
history  it  was  perceived  that  although  debarred  from 
the  rougher  activities  of  life,  women  have  an  empire  of 
their  own.     Men  have  the  making  of  civilisation,  but 
women  have  the  making  of  men.     It  is  they  who  form 
the  character  of  the  individual  and  give  its  tone  to  the 
society  in  which   they  live.     It   is  natural   to  men  to 
consider  the  feelings  and  tastes  of  women  and  to  adapt 
their  manners  and  conversation  to  them  ;  and  it  is  for 
women  to  exercise  worthily  the  sv/ay  they  thus  possess. 
Practically  and  to  a  large    extent  women   settle  what 
subjects  shall  be  spoken  of,  and  in  what  tone,  trifling  or 
serious  ;  and  each  ought  therefore  to  recognise  her  own 
burden  of  responsibility,  and  see  to  it  that  the  deference 
paid  to  her  shall  not  lower  him  who  pays  it,  and  that 
the  respect  shown  to  her  shall  help  him  who  shows  it 
to  respect  what  is  pure  and  true,  charitable,  just,  and 
worthy.     Let  women  show  that  it  is  worldly  trifling  or 
slanderous  malignity  or  empty  tittle-tattle  that  delights 
them,  then  they  act  the  part  of  Eve  and  tempt  to  sin  ; 
let  them  show  that  they  prize  most  highly  the  mirth 
that  is  innocent  and  the  conversation  that  is  elevating 
and  helpful,  and  while  they  win  admiration  for  them- 
selves they  win  it  also  for  what  is  healthy  and  purify- 
ing.    No  woman  can  renounce  her  influence  ;  helpful 


Gen,  iv.  12-24.]    CAIN'S  LhVE,    A.VD   ENOCH.  49 

or  hurtful  she  certainly  is  and  must  be  in  proportion  as 
she  is  pleasing  and  attractive. 

Thus  early  did  it  appear  how  much  of  what  is  admir- 
able and  serviceable  clung  to  human  nature  apart  from 
any  recognition  of  God.  The  worldly  life  was  then 
what  it  is  now,  a  life  not  wholly  and  obviously  polluted 
by  excess,  nor  destroyed  by  violence,  but  displaying 
features  which  appeal  to  our  sensibihties  and  provoke 
applause;  a  life  of  manifold  beauty,  of  great  power  and 
resource,  of  abundant  promise.  There  is  abundant 
material  in  the  world  for  beautifying  and  elevating 
human  life,  and  this  material  may  be  used  and  is  used 
by  men  who  acknowledge  neither  its  origin  in  God  nor 
the  ends  He  would  serve  by  it.  The  interests  of  men 
may  be  advanced  and  the  best  work  of  the  world  done 
by  three  distinct  classes  of  men — by  those  who  work 
as  God's  children  in  thorough  sympathy  with  His  pur- 
poses ;  by  those  who  do  not  know  God  but  who  are 
humble  in  heart  and  would  sympathise  with  God's 
purposes,  did  they  become  acquainted  with  them  ;  and 
by  tliose  who  are  proud  and  self-willed,  positively 
alienated  from  God,  and  who  do  the  world's  work  for 
their  own  ends.  And  so  far  as  the  external  work  goes 
the  last-named  class  of  men  may  be  most  eflicient.  In 
m.ental  endowment,  social  and  political  wisdom,  scien- 
tific aptitude,  and  all  that  tends  to  substantial  utility, 
it  is  quite  possible  they  may  excel  the  godly,  for  "  not 
many  noble,  not  many  wise  aie  called."  But  we  have 
nothing  to  measure  permanent  success  by,  save  con- 
formity with  God's  will ;  and  we  have  nothing  by 
which  we  can  estimate  how  character  will  endure  and 
how  deeply  it  is  rooted  save  conformity  with  the  nature 
of  God.  If  a  man  believes  in  God,  in  one  Supreme 
Who  rules  and  orders  all  things  for  just,  holy  and  wis2 

4 


50  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

ends  ;  if  he  is  in  sympathy  with  the  nature  and  will  of 
God  and  finds  his  truest  satisfaction  in  forwarding  the 
purposes  of  God,  then  you  have  a  guarantee  for  this 
man's  continuance  in  good  and  for  his  ultimate  success. 

The  precarious  nature  of  all  godless  civilisation  and 
the  real  tendency  of  self-sufficing  pride  are  shown  in 
Lamech. 

It  is  in  Lamech  the  tendency  culminates  and  in  him 
the  issue  of  all  this  brilliant  but  godless  life  is  seen. 
Therefore  though  he  is  the  father,  the  historian  speaks 
of  him  fl/i?^r  his  children.  In  his  one  recorded  utterance 
his  character  leaps  to  view  definite  and  complete — a  cha- 
racter of  boundless  force,  self-reliance  and  godlessness. 
It  is  a  little  uncertain  whether  he  means  that  he  has 
actually  slain  a  man,  or  whether  he  is  putting  a  hypo- 
thetical case^the  character  of  his  speech  is  the  same 
■  whichever  view  is  taken. 

"I  have  slain,"  he  says,  or  suppose  I  slay,   "a  man  for  wounding  me, 
A  young  man  for  hurting  me  : 
But  if  Cain  shall  be  avenged  seven-fold — then  Lamech  seventy  and 
seven-fold." 

That  is,  I  take  vengeance  for  myself  with  those  good 
weapons  my  son  has  forged  for  me.  He  has  furnished 
me  with  a  means  of  defence  many  times  more  effectual 
than  God's  avenging  of  Cain.  This  is  the  climax  of 
the  self-sufficiency  to  which  the  line  of  Cain  has  been 
tending.  Cain  besought  God's  protection  ;  he  needed 
God  for  at  least  one  purpose,  this  one  thread  bound 
him  yet  to  God.  Lamech  has  no  need  of  God  for  any 
purpose  ;  what  his  sons  can  make  and  his  own  right 
hand  do  is  enough  for  him.  This  is  what  comes  of 
finding  enough  in  the  world  without  God- — a  boastful, 
self-sufficient  man,  dangerous  to  societ}',  the  incarnation 


Gen.  iv.  12-24.]    CAIN'S  LINE,   AND  ENOCH.  51 

of  the  pride  of  life.  In  the  long  run  separation  from 
God  becomes  isolation  from  man  and  cruel  self-sufli- 
ciency. 

The  line  of  Seth  is  followed  from  father  to  son,  for 
the  sake  of  showing  that  the  promise  of  a  seed  which 
sliould  be  victorious  over  evil  was  being  fulfilled. 
Apparently  it  is  also  meant  that  during  this  uneventful 
period  long  ages  elapsed.  Nothing  can  be  told  of  these 
old  world  people  but  that  they  lived  and  died,  leaving 
behind  them  heirs  to  transmit  the  promise. 

Only  once  is  the  monotony  broken  ;  but  this  in  so 
striking  a  manner  as  to  rescue  us  from  the  idea  that  the 
historian  is  mechanically  copying  a  barren  list  of  names. 
For  in  the  seventh  generation,  contemporaneous  with 
the  culmination  of  Cain's  line  in  the  family  of  Lamech, 
we  come  upon  the  simple  but  anything  but  mechanical 
statement :  "  Enoch  walked  with  God  and  he  was  not ; 
for  God  took  him."  The  phrase  is  full  of  meaning. 
Enoch  walked  with  God  because  he  was  His  friend 
and  Hked  His  company,  because  he  was  going  in  the 
same  direction  as  God,  and  had  no  desire  for  anything 
but  what  lay  in  God's  path.  We  walk  with  God  when 
He  is  in  all  our  thoughts ;  not  because  we  consciously 
think  of  Him  at  all  times,  but  because  He  is  naturally 
suggested  to  us  by  all  we  think  of;  as  when  any  person 
or  plan  or  idea  has  become  important  to  us,  no  matter 
what  we  think  of,  our  thought  is  always  found  recurring 
to  this  favourite  object,  so  with  the  godly  man  every- 
thing has  a  connection  with  God  and  must  be  ruled 
by  that  connection.  When  some  change  in  his  cir- 
cumstances is  thought  of,  he  has  first  of  all  to  determine 
how  the  proposed  change  will  affect  his  connection 
with  God — will  his  conscience  be  equally  clear,  will  he 
be  able  to  live  on  the  same  friendly  terms  with  God 


52  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

and  so  forth.  When  he  falls  into  sin  he  cannot  rest 
till  he  has  resumed  his  place  at  God's  side  and  walks 
again  with  Him.  This  is  the  general  nature  of  walking 
with  God ;  it  is  a  persistent  endeavour  to  hold  all  our 
life  open  to  God's  inspection  and  in  conformity  to  His 
will ;  a  readiness  to  give  up  what  we  find  does  cause 
any  misunderstanding  between  us  and  God  ;  a  feeling 
of  loneliness  if  we  have  not  some  satisfaction  in  our 
efforts  at  holding  fellowship  with  God,  a  cold  and 
desolate  feeling  when  we  are  conscious  of  doing  some- 
thing that  displeases  Him.  This  walking  with  God 
necessarily  tells  on  the  whole  life  and  character.  As 
you  instinctively  avoid  subjects  which  you  know  will 
jar  upon  the  feelings  of  your  friend,  as  you  naturally 
endeavour  to  suit  yourself  to  your  company,  so  when 
the  consciousness  of  God's  presence  begins  to  have 
some  weight  with  you,  you  are  found  instinctively 
endeavouring  to  please  Him,  repressing  the  thoughts 
you  know  He  disapproves,  and  endeavouring  to  educate 
such  dispositions  as  reflect  His  own  nature. 

It  is  easy  then  to  understand  how  we  may  practically 
walk  with  God — it  is  to  open  to  Him  all  our  purposes 
and  hopes,  to  seek  His  judgment  on  our  scheme  of  life 
and  idea  of  happiness — it  is  to  be  on  thoroughly  friendly 
terms  with  God.  Why  then  do  any  not  walk  with 
God  ?  Because  they  seek  what  is  wrong.  You 
would  walk  with  Him  if  the  same  idea  of  good  pos- 
sessed you  as  possesses  Him  ;  if  you  were  as  ready 
as  He  to  make  no  deflexion  from  the  straight  path. 
Is  not  the  very  crown  of  life  depicted  in  the  testimony 
given  to  Enoch,  that  "  he  pleased  God  "  ?  Cannot  you 
take  your  way  through  life  with  a  resolute  and  jo3'Ous 
spirit  if  you  are  conscious  that  j^ou  please  Him  Who 
judges  not  by  appearances,  not  by  your  manners,  but 


Gen.  iv.  12-24.]    CAIN'S  LINE,    AND   ENOCH.  53 

by  your  real  state,  by  your  actual  character  and  the 
eternal  promise  it  bears  ?  Things  were  not  made  easy 
to  Enoch.  In  evil  days,  with  much  to  mislead  him, 
with  everything  to  oppose  him,  he  had  by  faith  and 
diligent  seeking,  as  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  says, 
to  cleave  to  the  path  on  which  God  walked,  often  left 
in  darkness,  often  thrown  off  the  track,  often  listening 
but  unable  to  hear  the  footfall  of  God  or  to  hear  his 
own  name  called  upon,  receiving  no  sign  but  still 
diligently  seeking  the  God  he  knew  would  lead  him 
only  to  good.  Be  it  yours  to  give  such  diligence.  Do 
not  accept  it  as  a  thing  fixed  that  you  are  to  be  one 
of  the  graceless  and  ungodly,  always  feeble,  always 
vacillating,  always  without  a  character,  always  in  doubt 
about  your  state,  and  whether  life  might  not  be  some 
other  and  better  thing  to  you. 

"Enoch  was  not,  for  God  took  him."  Suddenly  his 
place  on  earth  was  empty  and  men  drew  their  own 
conclusions.  He  had  been  known  as  the  Friend  of 
God,  where  could  he  be  but  in  God's  dwelling-place  ? 
No  sickness  had  slowly  worn  him  to  the  grave,  no 
mark  of  decay  had  been  visible  in  his  unabated  vigour. 
His  departure  was  a  favour  conferred  and  as  such 
men  recognised  it.  "  God  has  taken  him,"  they  said, 
and  their  thoughts  followed  upv.ard,  and  essayed  to 
conceive  the  finished  bliss  of  the  man  whom  God  has 
taken  away  where  blessing  may  be  more  fully  conferred. 
His  age  corresponded  to  our  thirty-three,  the  age  when 
the  world  has  usually  got  fair  hold  of  a  man,  when  a 
man  has  found  his  place  in  life  and  means  to  live  and 
see  good  days.  The  awkward,  unfamiliar  ways  of 
youth  that  keep  him  outside  of  much  of  life  are  past, 
and  the  satiety  of  age  is  not  3'et  reached  ;  a  man  has 
begun  to  learn  there  is  something  he  can  do,  and  has 


54  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

not  yet  learned  how  little.  It  is  an  age  at  which  it  is 
most  painful  to  relinquish  life,  but  it  was  at  this  age 
God  took  him  away,  and  men  knew  it  was  in  kindness. 
Others  had  begun  to  gather  round  him,  and  depend 
upon  him,  hopes  were  resting  in  him,  great  things  were 
expected  of  him,  life  was  strong  in  him.  But  let  life 
dress  itself  in  its  most  attractive  guise,  let  it  shine  on 
a  man  with  its  most  fascinating  smile,  let  him  be  happy 
at  home  and  the  pleasing  centre  of  a  pleasing  circle  of 
friends,  let  him  be  in  that  bright  summer  of  life  when  a 
man  begins  to  fear  he  is  too  prosperous  and  happy, 
and  yet  there  is  for  man  a  better  thing  than  all  this,  a 
thing  so  immeasurably  and  independently  superior  to 
it  that  all  this  may  be  taken  away  and  yet  the  man  be 
far  more  blessed.  If  God  would  confer  His  highest 
favours.  He  must  take  a  man  out  of  all  this  and  bring 
him  closer  to  Himself. 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE   FLOOD. 
Genesis  v-ix. 

THE  first  great  event  which  indelibly  impressed 
itself  on  the  memory  of  the  primeval  world  was  the 
Flood.  There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  this  cata- 
strophe was  co-extensive  with  the  human  population  of 
the  world.  In  every  branch  of  the  human  family  tradi- 
tions of  the  event  are  found.  These  traditions  need  not 
be  recited,  though  some  of  them  bear  a  remarkable  like- 
ness to  the  Biblical  story,  while  others  are  very  beautiful 
in  their  construction,  and  significant  in  individual  points. 
Local  floods  happening  at  various  times  in  different 
countries  could  not  have  given  birth  to  the  minute  coin- 
cidences found  in  these  traditions,  such  as  the  sendinsr 
out  of  the  birds,  and  the  number  of  persons  saved.  But 
we  have  as  yet  no  material  for  calculating  how  far  human 
population  had  spread  from  the  original  centre.  It 
might  apparently  be  argued  that  it  could  not  have 
spread  to  the  sea- coast,  or  that  at  any  rate  no  ships 
had  as  yet  been  built  large  enough  to  weather  a  severe 
storm  ;  for  a  thoroughly  nautical  population  could  have 
had  little  difficulty  in  surviving  such  a  catastrophe  as 
is  here  described.  But  all  that  can  be  affirmed  is  that 
there  is  no  evidence  that  the  waters  extended  beyond 
the  inhabited  part  of  the  earth;  and  from  certain  details 


56  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

of  the  narrative,  this  part  of  the  earth  may  be  identified 
as  the  great  plain  of  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris, 

Some  of  the  expressions  used  in  the  narrative  might 
indeed  lead  us  to  suppose  that  the  writer  understood 
the  catastrophe  to  have  extended  over  the  whole  globe  ; 
but  expressions  of  similar  largeness  elsewhere  occur 
in  passages  where  their  meaning  must  be  restricted. 
Probably  the  most  convincing  evidence  of  the  limited 
extent  of  the  Flood  is  furnished  by  the  animals  of 
Australia.  The  animals  that  abound  in  that  island  are 
different  from  those  found  in  other  parts  of  the  world, 
but  are  similar  to  the  species  which  are  found  fossilized 
in  the  island  itself,  and  which  therefore  must  have 
inhabited  these  same  regions  long  anterior  to  the  Flood. 
If  then  the  Flood  extended  to  Australia  and  destroyed 
all  animal  life  there,  what  are  we  compelled  to  suppose 
as  the  order  of  events  ?  We  must  suppose  that  the 
creatures,  visited  by  some  presentiment  of  what  was  to 
happen  many  months  after,  selected  specimens  of  their 
number,  and  that  these  specimens  by  some  unknown 
and  quite  inconceivable  means  crossed  thousands  of 
miles  of  sea,  found  their  way  through  all  kinds  of  perils 
from  unaccustom.ed  climate,  food,  and  beasts  of  prey ; 
singled  out  Noah  by  some  inscrutable  instinct,  and 
surrendered  themselves  to  his  keeping.  And  after  the 
year  in  the  ark  expired,  they  turned  their  faces  hom.e- 
w^ards,  leaving  behind  them  no  progeny,  again  preserv- 
ing themselves  intact,  and  transporting  themselves  by 
some  unknown  means  to  their  island  home.  This,  if 
the  Deluge  v/as  universal,  must  have  been  going  on 
with  thousands  of  animals  from  all  parts  of  the  globe  ; 
and  not  only  were  these  animals  a  stupendous  miracle 
in  themselves,  but  wherever  they  went  they  v/ere  the 
occasion    of  miracle  in  others,    all  the  beasts   of  prey 


Gen.v.-ix.]  THE  FLOOD.  57 

refraining  from  their  natural  food.  The  fact  is,  the 
thing  will  not  bear  stating. 

But  it  is  not  the  physical  but  the  moral  aspects  of 
the  Flood  with  which  we  have  here  to  do.  And,  first, 
this  narrator  explains  its  cause.  He  ascribes  it  to  the 
abnormal  wickedness  of  the  antediluvians.  To  describe 
the  demoralised  condition  of  society  before  the  Flood, 
the  strongest  language  is  used,  "God  saw  that  the 
wickedness  of  man  was  great,"  monstrous  in  acts  of 
violence,  and  in  habitual  courses  and  established  usages. 
"  Every  imagination  of  the  thoughts  of  his  heart  was 
only  evil  continually," — there  was  no  mixture  of  good, 
no  relentings,  no  repentances,  no  visitings  of  compunc- 
tion, no  hesitations  and  debatings.  It  was  a  world  of 
men  fierce  and  energetic,  violent  and  lawless,  in  per- 
petual war  and  turmoil ;  in  which  if  a  man  sought  to 
live  a  righteous  life,  he  had  to  conceive  it  of  his  own 
mind  and  to  follow  it  out  unaided  and  without  the 
countenance  of  any. 

This  abnormal  wickedness  again  is  accounted  for  by 
the  abnormal  marriages  from  which  the  leaders  of  these 
ages  sprang.  Everything  seemed  abnormal,  huge,  in- 
human. As  there  are  laid  bare  to  the  eye  of  the 
geologist  in  those  archaic  times  vast  forms  bearing  a 
likeness  to  forms  we  are  now  familiar  with,  but  of 
gigantic  proportions  and  wallowing  in  dim,  mist-covered 
regions ;  so  to  the  eye  of  the  historian  there  loom 
through  the  obscurity  colossal  forms  perpetrating  deeds 
of  more  than  human  savagery,  and  strength,  and 
daring ;  heroes  that  seem  formed  in  a  different  mould 
from  common  men. 

However  we  interpret  the  narrative,  its  significance 
for  us  is  plain.  There  is  nothing  prudish  in  the  Bible. 
It   speaks  with  a  manly    frankness   of  the    beauty   of 


S8  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

women  and  its  ensnaring  power.  The  Mosaic  law  was 
stringent  against  intermarriage  with  idolatresses,  and 
still  in  the  New  Testament  something  more  than  an 
echo  of  the  old  denunciation  of  such  marriages  is  heard. 
Those  who  were  most  concerned  about  preserving  a  pure 
morality  and  a  high  tone  in  society  were  keenly  alive 
to  the  dangers  that  threatened  from  this  quarter.  It 
is  a  permanent  danger  to  character  because  it  is  to  a 
permanent  element  in  human  nature  that  the  temptation 
appeals.  To  many  in  every  generation,  perhaps  to 
the  majority,  this  is  the  most  dangerous  form  in  which 
worldliness  presents  itself;  and  to  resist  this  the  most 
painful  test  of  principle.  With  natures  keenly  sensitive 
to  beauty  and  superficial  attractiveness,  some  are  called 
upon  to  make  their  choice  between  a  conscientious 
cleaving  to  God  and  an  attachment  to  that  which  in  the 
form  is  perfect  but  at  heart  is  defective,  depraved,  god- 
less. Where  there  is  great  outward  attraction  a  man 
fights  against  the  growing  sense  of  inward  uncon- 
geniality,  and  persuades  himself  he  is  too  scrupulous 
and  uncharitable,  or  that  he  is  a  bad  reader  of  character. 
There  may  be  an  undercurrent  of  warning ;  he  may  be 
sensible  that  his  whole  nature  is  not  satisfied  and  it 
may  seem  to  him  ominous  that  what  is  best  within  him 
does  not  flourish  in  his  new  attachment,  but  rather 
what  is  inferior,  if  not  what  is  worst.  But  all  such 
omens  and  warnings  are  disregarded  and  stifled  by 
some  such  sill}''  thought  as  that  consideration  and  calcu- 
lation are  out  of  place  in  such  matters.  And  what  is 
the  result  ?  The  result  is  the  same  as  it  ever  was. 
Instead  of  the  ungodly  rising  to  the  level  of  the  godly, 
he  sinks  to  hers.  The  worldly  style,  the  amusements, 
the  fashions  once  distasteful  to  him,  but  allowed  for  her 
sake,  become  familiar,  and  at  last  wholly  displace  the 


Gen.v.-ix.]  THE  FLOOD.  59 

old  and  godly  ways,  the  arrangements  that  left  room 
for  acknowledging  God  in  the  family ;  and  there  is  one 
household  less  as  a  point  of  resistance  to  the  incursion 
of  an  ungodly  tone  in  society,  one  deserter  more  added 
to  the  already  too  crowded  ranks  of  the  ungodly,  and 
the  life-time  if  not  the  eternity  of  one  soul  embittered. 
Not  without  a  consideration  of  the  temptations  that  do 
actually  lead  men  astray  did  the  law  enjoin  :  "  Thou 
shalt  not  make  a  covenant  with  the  inhabitants  of  the 
land,  nor  take  of  their  daughters  unto  thy  sons." 

It  seems  like  a  truism  to  say  that  a  greater  amount 
of  unhappiness  has  been  produced  by  mismanagement, 
folly,  and  wickedness  in  the  relation  subsisting  between 
men  and  women  than  by  any  other  cause.  God  has 
given  us  the  capacity  of  love  to  regulate  this  relation 
and  be  our  safe  guide  in  all  matters  connected  with  it. 
But  frequently,  from  one  cause  or  another,  the  govern- 
ment and  direction  of  this  relation  are  taken  out  of  the 
hands  of  love  and  put  into  the  thoroughly  incompetent 
hands  of  convenience,  or  fancy,  or  selfish  lust.  A 
marriage  contracted  from  any  such  motive  is  sure  to 
bring  unhappiness  of  a  long-continued,  wearing  and 
often  heart-breaking  kind.  Such  a  marriage  is  often 
the  form  in  which  retribution  comes  for  youthful  selfish- 
ness and  youthful  licentiousness.  You  cannot  cheat 
nature.  Just  in  so  far  as  3'ou  allow  yourself  to  be  ruled 
in  youth  by  a  selfish  love  of  pleasure,  in  so  far  do  you  \' 
incapacitate  yourself  for  love.  You  sacrifice  what  is 
genuine  and  satisfying,  because  provided  by  nature,  to 
what  is  spurious,  unsatisfyin;;,  and  shameful.  You 
cannot  afterwards,  unless  by  a  1(  ng  and  bitter  discipline, 
restore  the  capacity  of  warm  ;  nd  pure  love  in  3'our 
heart.  Every  indulgence  in  which  true  love  is  absent 
is  another  blow  given  to  the  faculty  of  love  within  you 


6o  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS, 

— 3^ou  make  yourself  in  that  capacity  decrepit,  paralyzed, 
dead.  You  have  lost,  you  have  killed  the  faculty  that 
should  be  your  guide  in  all  these  matters,  and  so  you 
are  at  last  precipitated  without  this  guidance  into  a 
marriage  formed  from  some  other  motive,  form.ed  there- 
fore against  nature,  and  in  which  you  are  the  everlasting 
victim  of  nature's  relentless  justice.  Remember  that 
you  cannot  have  both  things,  a  youth  of  loveless  pleasure 
and  a  loving  marriage — you  must  make  your  choice. 
For  as  surely  as  genuine  love  kills  all  evil  desire ;  so 
•  surely  does  evil  desire  kill  the  very  capacity  of  love, 
and  blind  utterly  its  wretched  victim  to  the  qualities 
that  ought  to  excite  love. 

The  language  used  of  God  in  relation  to  this  uni- 
versal corruption  strikes  every  one  as  remarkable.  "It 
repented  the  Lord  that  He  had  made  man  on  the  earth, 
and  it  grieved  Him  at  His  heart."  This  is  what  is 
usually  termed  anthropomorphism,  i.e.  the  presenting 
of  God  in  terms  applicable  only  to  man  ;  it  is  an  in- 
stance of  the  same  mode  of  speaking  as  is  used  when 
we  speak  of  God's  hand  or  eye  or  heart.  These 
expressions  are  not  absolutely  true,  but  they  are  use- 
ful and  convey  to  us  a  meaning  which  could  scarcely 
otherwise  be  expressed.  Some  persons  think  that  the 
use  of  these  expressions  proves  that  in  early  times  God 
was  thought  of  as  wearing  a  body  and  as  being  very 
like  ourselves  in  His  inward  nature.  And  even  in  our 
day  we  have  been  ridiculed  for  speaking  of  God  as  a 
magnified  man.  Now  in  the  first  place  the  use  of  such 
expressions  does  not  prove  that  even  the  earliest 
v/orshippers  of  God  believed  Him  to  have  eyes  and 
hands  and  a  body.  IVe  freel}'  use  the  same  expressions 
though  we  have  no  such  belief.  We  use  them  because 
our    lanc;uare    is    formed    for    human    uses   and  on  a 


Gen.  v.-ix.]  THE  FLOOD.  6i 

human    level,    and    we    have   no    capacity  to  frame  a 
better.     And  in  the  second  place,  though  not  absolutely 
true    they    do    help    us    towards    the    truth.     We  are 
told  that  it  degrades  God  to  think  of  Him  as  hearing 
prayer    and    accepting    praise ;  nay,  that    to    think    of 
Him   as   a    Person   at  all,    is    to    degrade    Him.     We 
ought  to  think  of  Him  as  the  Absolutely  Unknowable. 
But  which  degrades  God  most,  and  which  exalts  Him 
most  ?     If  we  find  that  it  is  impossible  to  worship  an 
absolutely  unknowable,  if  we  find  that  practically  such 
an  idea  is  a  mere  nonentity  to  us,  and  that  we  cannot 
in  point  of  fact  pay  any  homage  or  show  any  considera- 
tion to  such  an  empty  abstraction,  is  not  this  really  to 
lower  God  ?     And   if  we  find  that  when  w^e  think  of 
Him  as  a  Person,  and  ascribe  to  Him  all  human  virtue 
in  an  infinite  degree,  we  can  rejoice  in  Him  and  worship 
Him  with    true  adoration,  is  not  this  to  exalt  Him  ? 
While  we  call  Him  our  Father  we  know  that  this  title 
is  inadequate,  while  we  speak  of  God  as  planning  and 
decreeing  we  know   that  we  are  merely  making   shift 
to  express  what  is  inexpressible  by  us — we  know  that 
our  thoughts  of  Him  are  never  adequate  and  that  to 
think   of  Him   at  all  is   to   lower  Him,  is  to  think  of 
Him  inadequately;  but  when  the  practical  alternative 
is  such  as  it  is,  we  find  we  do  well  to  think  of  Him 
with   the  highest  personal  attributes  we  can  conceive 
For  to  refuse  to  ascribe  such  attributes  to  Him  because 
this  is  degrading  Him,  is  to  empty  our  minds  of  any 
idea  of  Him  which  can  stimulate  either  to  worship  or 
to  duty.     If  by  ridding  our    minds    of  all    anthropo- 
Uiorphic  ideas  and  refusing  to  think  of  God  as  feeling, 
thinking,  acting  as  men  do,  we  could  thereby  get  to 
a  really  higher  conception  of  Him,  a  conception  which 
would    practically    make    us    worship    Him    more    de- 


62  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

votedly  and  serve  Him  more  faithfully,  then  by  all 
means  let  us  do  so.  But  if  the  result  of  refusing  to 
think  of  Him  as  in  many  ways  like  ourselves,  is  that 
we  cease  to  think  of  Him  at  all  or  only  as  a  dead 
impersonal  force,  then  this  certainly  is  not  to  reach 
a  higher  but  a  lower  conception  of  Him.  And  until 
we  see  our  way  to  some  truly  higher  conception  than 
that  which  we  have  of  a  Personal  God,  we  had  better 
be  content  with  it. 

In  short,  we  do  well  to  be  humble,  and  considering 
that  we  know  very  little  about  existence  of  any  kind, 
and  least  of  all  about  God's,  and  that  our  God  has 
been  presented  to  us  in  human  form,  we  do  well  to 
accept  Christ  as  our  God,  to  worship,  love,  and  serve 
Him,  finding  Him  sufficient  for  all  our  wants  of  this 
life,  and  leaving  it  to  other  times  to  get  the  solution 
of  anything  that  is  not  made  plain  to  us  in  Him. 
This  is  one  boon  that  the  science  and  philosophy  of 
our  day  have  unintentionally  conferred  upon  us.  They 
have  laboured  to  make  us  feel  how  remote  and  inac- 
cessible God  is,  how  little  we  can  know  Him,  how  truly 
He  is  past  finding  out;  they  have  laboured  to  make  us 
feel  how  intangible  and  invisible  and  incomprehensible 
God  is,  but  the  result  of  this  is  that  we  turn  with  all 
the  stronger  longing  to  Him  who  is  the  Image  of  the 
Invisible  God,  and  on  whom  a  voice  has  fallen  from  the 
excellent  glory,  "This  is  My  beloved  Son,  hear  Him." 

The  Flood  itself  we  need  not  attempt  to  describe. 
It  has  been  remarked  that  though  the  narrative 
is  vivid  and  forcible,  it  is  entirely  wanting  in  that 
sort  of  description  which  in  a  modern  historian  or 
poet  would  have  occupied  the  largest  space.  "  We 
see  nothing  of  the  death-struggle  ;  we  hear  not  the 
cry  of  despair ;  we  are  not  called  upon  to  witness  the 


Gen.  V.  ix.  THE  FLOOD.  63 

frantic  agony  of  husband  and  wife,  and  parent  and 
child,  as  they  fled  in  terror  before  the  rising  waters. 
Nor  is  a  word  said  of  the  sadness  of  the  one  righteous 
man,  who,  safe  himself,  looked  upon  the  destruction 
which  he  could  not  avert."  The  Chaldean  tradition 
which  is  the  most  closely  allied  to  the  Biblical  account 
is  not  so  reticent.  Tears  are  shed  in  heaven  over  the 
catastrophe,  and  even  consternation  affected  its  in- 
habitants, while  within  the  ark  itself  the  Chaldean 
Noah  says,  "  When  the  storm  came  to  an  end  and  the 
terrible  water-spout  ceased,  I  opened  the  window  and 
the  light  smote  upon  my  face,  I  looked  at  the  sea 
attentively  observing,  and  the  whole  of  humanity  had 
returned  to  mud,  like  seaweed  the  corpses  floated.  I 
was  seized  with  sadness  ;  I  sat  down  and  wept  and  my 
tears  fell  upon  my  face." 

There  can  be  little  question  that  this  is  a  true  de- 
scription of  Noah's  feeling.  And  the  sense  of  desolation 
and  constraint  would  rather  increase  in  Noah's  mind 
than  diminish.  Month  after  month  elapsed ;  he  was 
coming  daily  nearer  the  end  of  his  food,  and  yet  the 
waters  were  unabated.  He  did  not  know  how  long  he 
was  to  be  kept  in  this  dark,  disagreeable  place.  He 
was  left  to  do  his  daily  work  without  any  supernatural 
signs  to  help  him  against  his  natural  anxieties.  The 
floating  of  the  ark  and  all  that  went  on  in  it  had  no 
mark  of  God's  hand  upon  it.  He  was  indeed  safe  while 
others  had  been  destroyed.  But  of  what  good  was  this 
safety  to  be  ?  Was  he  ever  to  get  out  of  this  prison- 
house  ?  To  what  straits  was  he  to  be  first  reduced  ? 
So  it  is  often  with  ourselves.  We  are  left  to  fulfil 
God's  will  without  any  sensible  tokens  to  set  over 
against  natural  difficulties,  painful  and  pinching  circum- 
stances, ill  health,  low  spirits,  failure  of  favourite  pro- 


64        ,  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

jects  and  old  hopes — so  that  at  last  we  come  to  think 
that  perhaps  safety  is  all  we  are  to  have  in  Christ,  a 
mere  exemption  from  suffering  of  one  kind  purchased 
by  the  endurance  of  much  suffering  of  another  kind ; 
that  we  are  to  be  thankful  for  pardon  on  any  terms ; 
and  escaping  with  our  life,  must  be  content  though  it 
be  bare.  Why,  how  often  does  a  Christian  wonder 
whether,  after  all,  he  has  chosen  a  life  that  he  can 
endure,  whether  the  monotony  and  the  restraints  of  the 
Christian  life  are  not  inconsistent  with  true  enjoyment  ? 
This  strife  between  the  felt  restriction  of  the  Chris- 
tian life  and  the  natural  craving  for  abundant  life,  for 
entrance  into  all  that  the  world  can  show  us,  and  ex- 
perience of  all  forms  of  enjoyment — this  strife  goes  on 
unceasingly  in  the  heart  of  many  of  us  as  it  goes  on 
from  age  to  age  in  the  world.  Which  is  the  true  view 
of  life,  which  is  the  view  to  guide  lis  in  choosing  and 
refusing  the  enjoyments  and  pursuits  that  are  presented 
to  us  ?  Are  we  to  believe  that  the  ideal  man  for  this 
life  is  he  who  has  tasted  all  culture  and  delight,  who 
believes  in  nature,  recognising  no  fall  and  seeking  for 
no  redemption,  and  makes  enjoyment  his  end  ;  or  he 
who  sees  that  all  enjoyment  is  deceptive  till  man  is  set 
right  morally,  and  who  spends  himself  on  this,  knowing 
that  blood  and  misery  must  come  before  peace  and  rest, 
and  crowned  as  our  King  and  Leader,  not  with  a  garland 
of  roses,  but  with  the  crown  of  Him  Who  is  greatest 
of  all,  because  servant  of  all — to  Whom  the  most  sunken 
is  not  repulsive,  and  Who  will  not  abandon  the  most 
hopeless  ?  This  comies  to  be  very  much  the  question, 
whether  this  life  is  final  or  preparatory  ? — whether, 
therefore,  our  work  in  it  should  be  to  check  lower 
propensities  and  develop  and  train  all  that  is  best  in 
character,  so  as  to  be  fit  for  highest  life  and  enjoyment 


Gen.  v.-viii.]  THE  FLOOD.  65 


in  a  world  to  come — or  should  take  ourselves  as  we 
find  ourselves,  and  delight  in  this  present  world  ? 
whether  this  is  a  placid  eternal  state,  in  which  things 
are  very  much  as  they  should  be,  and  in  which  there- 
fore we  can  live  freely  and  enjoy  freely ;  or  whether  it 
is  a  disordered,  initial  condition  in  which  our  main 
task  should  be  to  do  a  little  tov/ards  putting  things  on 
a  better  rail  and  getting  at  least  the  germ  and  small 
beginnings  of  future  good  planted  in  one  another  ?  So 
that  in  the  midst  of  all  felt  restriction,  there  is  the 
highest  hope,  that  one  day  we  shall  go  forth  from  the 
narrow  precincts  of  our  ark,  and  step  out  into  the  free 
bright  sunshine,  in  a  world  where  there  is  nothing  to 
offend,  and  that  the  time  of  our  deprivation  will  seem 
to  have  been  well  spent  indeed,  if  it  has  left  v;ithin  lis 
a  capacity  permanently  to  enjoy  love,  holiness,  justice, 
and  all  that  is  delighted  in  by  God  tlirnself. 

The  use  made  of  this  event  in  the  New  Testament 
is  remarkable.  It  is  compared  by  Peter  to  baptism, 
and  both  are  viewed  as  illustrations  of  salvation  by 
destruction.  The  eight  souls,  he  says,  who  were  in  the 
ark,  "  were  saved  by  water."  The  water  which  de- 
stroyed the  rest  saved  them.  When  there  seemed 
little  hope  of  the  godly  line  being  able  to  withstand 
the  influence  of  the  ungodly,  the  Flood  came  and  left 
Noah's  family  in  a  new  world,  with  freedom  to  order 
all  things  according  to  their  own  ideas.  In  this  Peter 
sees  some  analogy  to  baptism.  In  baptism,  the  peni- 
tent who  believes  in  the  efficacy  of  Christ's  blood  to 
purge  away  sin,  lets  his  defilement  be  washed  away 
and  rises  new  and  clean  to  the  life  Christ  gives.  In 
Christ  the  sinner  finds  shelter  for  himself  and  destruc- 
tion for  his  sins.  It  is  God's  wrath  against  sin  that 
saves  us  by  destroying  our  sins ;  just   as  it  was  the 

5 


66  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

Flood  which  devastated  the  world,  that  at  the  same 
time,  and  thereby,  saved  Noah  and  his  family. 

In  this  event,  too,  we  see  the  completeness  of  God's 
work.  Often  we  feel  reluctant  to  surrender  our  sinful 
habits  to  so  final  a  destruction  as  is  implied  in  being 
one  with  Christ.  The  expense  at  which  holiness  is  to 
be  bought  seems  almost  too  great.  So  much  that  has 
given  us  pleasure  must  be  parted  with  ;  so  many  old 
ties  sundered,  a  condition  of  holiness  presents  an 
aspect  of  dreariness  and  hopelessness  ;  like  the  world 
after  the  flood,  not  a  moving  thing  on  the  surface  of 
the  earth,  ever3^thing  levelled,  prostrate,  and  washed 
even  with  the  ground  ;  here  the  corpse  of  a  man,  there 
the  carcase  of  a  beast;  here  mighty  forest  timber  swept 
prone  like  the  rushes  on  the  banks  of  a  flooded  stream, 
and  there  a  city  without  inhabitants,  everything  dank, 
dismal  and  repellent.  But  this  is  only  one  aspect  of 
the  work  ;  the  beginnii^g,  necessary  if  the  work  is  to 
be  thorough.  If  any  j  "rt  of  the  sinful  life  remain  it 
will  spring  up  to  mar  v  hat  God  means  to  introduce  us 
to.  Only  that  is  to  bc^  preserved  which  we  can  take 
with  us  into  our  ark.  Only  that  is  to  pass  on  into 
our  life  which  we  can  :  etain  v\  hile  v>'e  are  in  true  con- 
nection with  Christ,  ard  which  we  think  can  help  us 
to  live  as  His  friends,  nid  to  serve  Him  zealously. 

This  event  then  givrs  us  seme  measure  by  which 
we  can  know  how  much  God  will  do  to  maintain 
holiness  upon  earth.  In  this  catastrophe  every  one 
who  strives  after  godl  ness  may  find  encouragement^ 
seeing  in  it  the  Divine  earnestness  of  God  for  good 
and  against  evil.  The;  e  is  only  one  other  event  in 
history  that  so  consp  cuously  shows  that  holiness 
among  men  is  the  object  for  which  God  will  sacrifice 
everything  else.     There  is  no  need  now  of  any  further 


Gen.  v.-viii.]  THE  FLOOD.  67 

demonstration  of  God's  purpose  in  this  world  and  His 
zeal  for  carrying  it  out.  And  may  it  not  be  expected 
of  us  His  children,  that  we  stand  in  presence  of  the 
cross  until  our  cold  and  frivolous  hearts  catch  something 
of  the  earnestness,  the  "  resisting  unto  blood  striving 
against  sin,"  which  is  exhibited  there  ?  The  Flood  has 
not  been  forgotten  by  almost  any  people  under  heaven, 
but  its  moral  result  is  nil.  But  he  whose  memory  is 
haunted  by  a  dying  Redeemer,  by  the  thought  of  One 
Whose  love  found  its  most  appropriate  and  practical 
result  in  dying  for  him,  is  prevented  from  much  sin, 
and  finds  in  that  love  the  spring  of  eternal  hope,  that 
which  his  soul  in  the  deep  privacy  of  his  most  sacred 
thoughts  can  feed  upon  with  joy,  that  which  he  builds 
himself  round  and  broods  over  as  his  inalienable 
possession. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

NOAH'S  FALL. 
Genesis  ix.  20-27. 

NOAH  in  the  ark  was  in  a  position  of  present 
safety  but  of  much  anxiety.  No  sign  of  any 
special  protection  on  God's  part  was  given.  The 
waters  seem  to  stand  at  their  highest  level  still ; 
and  probably  the  risk  of  the  ark's  grounding  on 
some  impracticable  peak,  or  precipitous  hill-side,  would 
seem  as  great  a  danger  as  the  water  itself.  Five  months 
had  elapsed,  and  though  the  rain  had  ceased  the  sky 
was  heavy  and  threatening,  and  every  day  now  was 
worth  many  measures  of  corn  in  the  coming  harvest. 
A  reflection  of  the  anxiety  within  the  ark  is  seen  in 
the  expression,  "  And  God  remembered  Noah."  It  was 
needful  to  say  so,  for  there  was  as  yet  no  outward  sign 
of  this. 

To  such  anxieties  all  are  subject  who  have  availed 
themselves  of  the  salvation  God  provides.  At  the  first 
there  is  an  easy  faith  in  God's  aid  ;  there  are  many 
signs  of  His  presence ;  the  subjects  in  whom  salvation 
operates  have  no  disposition  or  temptation  to  doubt 
that  God  is  with  them  and  is  working  for  them.  But 
this  initial  stage  is  succeeded  by  a  very  different 
state    of    things.     We    seem    to  be    left    to   ourselves 


Gen.  ix.  20-27.]  NOAH'S  FALL.  69 

to  cope  with  the  world  and  all  its  difficulties  and 
temptations  in  our  own  strength.  Much  as  we  crave 
some  sign  that  God  remembers  us,  no  sign  is  given. 
We  no  longer  receive  the  same  urgent  impulses  to 
holiness  of  life ;  we  have  no  longer  the  same  freshness 
in  devotion  as  if  speaking  to  a  God  at  hand.  There  is 
nothing  which  of  itself  and  without  reasoning  about  it 
says  to  us,  Here  is  God's  hand  upon  me. 

In  fact,  the  great  part  of  our  life  has  to  be  spent 
under  these  conditions,  and  we  need  to  hold  some  well- 
ascertained  principle  regarding  God's  dealings,  if  our 
faith  is  to  survive.  And  here  in  God's  treatment  of 
Noah  we  see  that  God  may  as  certainly  be  working  for 
us  when  not  working  directly  upon  us,  as  when  His 
presence  is  palpable.  His  absence  from  us  is  as  needful 
as  His  presence.  The  clouds  are  as  requisite  for  our 
salvation  as  the  sunny  sky.  When  therefore  we  find 
that  salvation  from  sin  is  a  much  slower  and  more 
anxious  matter  than  we  once  expected  it  to  be,  we  are 
not  to  suppose  that  God  is  not  hearing  our  prayers. 
When  Noah  day  by  day  cried  to  God  for  relief,  and  yet 
night  after  night  found  himself  "  cribb'd,  cabin'd,  and 
confined,"  with  no  sign  from  God  but  such  as  faith 
could  apprehend,  depend  upon  it  he  had  very  different 
feelings  from  those  with  which  he  first  stepped  into 
the  ark.  And  when  we  are  left  to  one  monotonous 
rut  of  duty  and  to  an  unchanging  and  dry  form  of 
devotion,  when  we  are  called  to  learn  to  live  by  faith 
not  by  sight,  to  learn  that  God's  purposes  with  us 
are  spiritual,  and  that  slow  and  difficult  growth  in 
self-command  and  holiness  is  the  best  proof  that  He 
hears  our  prayers,  we  must  strive  to  believe  that  this 
also  is  a  needful  part  of  our  salvation ;  and  we  must 
especially   be   on   our   guard   against    supposing   that 


70  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

as  God  has  ceased  to  disclose  Himself  to  us,  and  so 
to  make  faith  easy,  we  may  cease  to  disclose  ourselves 
to  Him. 

For  this  is  the  natural  and  very  frequent  result  of 
such  an  experience.  Discouraged  by  the  obscurity 
of  God's  ways  and  the  difficulty  of  believing  when  the 
mind  is  not  sustained  by  success  or  by  new  thoughts 
or  manifest  tokens  of  God's  presence,  we  naturally  cease 
to  look  for  any  clear  signs  of  God's  concernment  about 
our  state,  and  rest  from  all  anxious  craving  to  know 
God's  will  about  us.  To  this  temptation  the  majority 
of  Christian  people  yield,  and  allow  themselves  to 
become  indifferent  to  spiritual  truth  and  increasingly 
interested  in  the  non-mysterious  facts  of  the  present 
world,  attending  to  present  duties  in  a  mechanical  way, 
seeing  that  their  families  have  enough  to  eat  and  that 
all  in  their  little  ark  are  provided  for.  But  to  this 
temptation  Noah  did  not  yield.  Though  to  all  ap- 
pearance abandoned  by  God,  he  did  what  he  could 
to  ascertain  what  was  beyond  his  immediate  sight  and 
present  experience.  He  sent  out  his  raven  and  his 
dove.  Not  satisfied  with  his  first  enquiry  by  the 
raven,  which  could  flit  from  one  piece  of  floating 
garbage  to  another,  he  sent  out  the  dove,  and  continued 
to  do  so  at  intervals  of  seven  days. 

Noah  sent  out  the  raven  first,  probably  because  it 
had  been  the  most  companionable  bird  and  seemed  the 
wisest,  preferable  to  "the  silly  dove;"  but  it  never 
came  back  with  God's  message.  And  so  has  one  often 
found  that  an  enquiry  into  God's  will,  the  examination, 
for  example,  of  some  portion  of  Scripture,  undertaken 
with  a  prospect  of  success  and  with  good  human  helps, 
has  failed,  and  has  failed  in  this  peculiar  ravenhke 
way ;  the  enquiry  has  settled  down  on  some  worthless 


Gen.  ix.  20-27.]  NOAH'S  FALL.  71 

point,  on  some  rotting  carcase,  on  some  subject  of 
passing  interest  or  worldly  learning,  and  brings  back 
no  message  of  God  to  us.  On  the  other  hand^ 
the  continued  use.  Sabbath  after  Sabbath,  of  God's 
appointed  means,  and  the  patient  waiting  for  some 
message  of  God  to  come  to  us  through  what  seems 
a  most  unlikely  messenger,  will  often  be  rewarded. 
It  may  be  but  a  single  leaf  plucked  off  that  we  get, 
but  enough  to  convince  us  that  God  has  been  mind- 
ful of  our  need,  and  is  preparing  for  us  a  habitable 
world. 

Many  a  man  is  like  the  raven,  feeding  himself  on  the 
destruction  of  others,  satisfied  with  knowing  how  God 
has  dealt  with  others.  He  thinks  he  has  done  his  part 
when  he  has  found  out  who  has  been  sinning  and  what 
has  been  the  result.  But  the  dove  will  not  settle  on 
any  such  resting-place,  and  is  dissatisfied  until  for 
herself  she  can  pluck  off  some  token  that  God's  anger 
is  turned  away  and  that  now  there  is  peace  on  earth. 
And  if  only  you  Wait  God's  time  and  renew  your  endea- 
vours to  find  such  tokens,  some  assurance  will  be  given 
you,  some  green  and  growing  thing,  some  living  part, 
however  small,  of  the  new  creation  which  will  certify 
you  of  your  hope. 

On  the  first  day  of  the  first  month.  New  Year's  day, 
Noah  removed  the  covering  of  the  ark,  which  seems  to 
have  stranded  on  the  Armenian  tableland,  and  looked 
out  upon  the  new  world.  He  cannot  but  have  felt  his 
responsibility,  as  a  kind  of  second  Adam.  And  many 
questionings  must  have  arisen  in  his  mind  regarding 
the  relation  of  the  new  to  the  old.  Was  there  to  be 
any  connection  with  the  old  world  at  all,  or  was  all 
to  begin  afresh  ?  Were  the  promises,  the  traditions,  the 
events,  the  genealogies  of  the  old  world  of  any  signifi- 


72  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

cance  now  ?  The  Flood  distinctly  marked  the  going  out 
of  one  order  of  things  and  the  establishment  of  another. 
Man's  career  and  development,  or  what  we  call  history, 
had  not  before  the  Flood  attained  its  goal.  If  this 
development  was  not  to  be  broken  short  off,  and  if 
God's  purpose  in  creation  was  to  be  fulfilled,  then  the 
world  must  still  go  on.  Some  worlds  may  perhaps 
die  young,  as  individuals  die  young..  Others  endure 
through  hair-breadth  escapes  and  constant  dangers, 
find  their  way  like  our  planet  through  showers  of  fire, 
and  pass  without  collision  the  orbits  of  huge  bodies, 
carrying  with  them  always,  as  our  world  does,  the 
materials  of  their  destruction  within  themselves.  But 
catastrophes  do  not  cut  short,  but  evolve  God's  purposes. 
The  Flood  came  that  God's  purpose  might  be  fulfilled. 
The  course  of  nature  was  interrupted,  the  arrangements 
of  social  and  domestic  life  were  overturned,  all  the 
works  of  men  were  swept  away  that  this  purpose  might 
be  fulfilled.  It  was  expedient  that  one  generation 
should  die  for  all  generations  ;  and  this  generation 
having  been  taken  out  of  the  way,  fresh  provision  is 
made  for  the  co-operation  of  man  with  God.  On  man's 
part  there  is  an  emphatic  acknowledgment  of  God  by 
sacrifice;  on  God's  part  there  is  a  renewed  grant  to 
man  of  the  world  and  its  fulness,  a  renewed  assurance 
of  His  favour. 

This  covenant  with  Noah  was  on  the  plane  of  nature. 
It  is  man's  natural  life  in  the  world  which  is  the  subject 
of  it.  The  sacredness  of  life  is  its  great  lesson.  Men 
might  well  wonder  whether  God  did  not  hold  life 
cheap.  In  the  old  world  violence  had  prevailed.  But 
while  Lamech's  sword  may  have  slain  its  thousands, 
God  had  in  the  Flood  slain  tens  of  thousands.  The 
covenant,   therefore,  directs  that  human    life   must   be 


Gen.  ix.  20-27.]  NOAWS  FALL.  73 

reverenced.  The  primal  blessing  is  renewed.  Men  are 
to  multiply  and  replenish  the  earth  ;  and  the  slaughter 
of  a  man  was  to  be  reckoned  a  g£^ital  crime ;  and  the 
maintenance  of  life  was  guaranteed  by  a  special  clause, 
securing  the  regularity  of  the  seasons.  If,  then,  you 
ask,  Was  this  just  a  beginning  again  where  Adam 
began  ?  Did  God  just  wipe  out  man  as  a  boy  wipes 
his  slate  clean,  when  he  finds  his  calculation  is  turning 
out  wrong  ?  Had  all  these  generations  learned  nothing; 
had  the  world  not  grown  at  all  since  its  birth  ? — the 
answer  is,  it  had  grown,  and  in  two  most  important  re- 
spects,— it  had  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  uniformity 
of  nature,  and  the  necessity  of  human  law.  This  great 
departure  from  the  uniformity  of  nature  brought  into 
strong  relief  its  normal  uniformity,  and  gave  men  their 
first  lesson  in  the  recognition  of  a  God  who  governs  by 
fixed  laws.  And  they  learned  also  from  the  Flood  that 
wickedness  must  not  be  allowed  to  grow  unchecked 
and  attain  dimensions  which  nothing  short  of  a  flood 
can  cope  with. 

Fit  symbol  of  this  covenant  was  the  rainbow.  Seem- 
ing to  unite  heaven  and  earth,  it  pictured  to  those 
primitive  people  the  friendliness  existing  between  God 
and  man.  Many  nations  have  looked  upon  it  as  not 
merely  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  striking  objects 
in  nature,  but  as  the  messenger  of  heaven  to  men.  And 
arching  over  the  whole  horizon,  it  exhibits  the  all- 
embracing  universality  of  the  promise.  They  accepted 
it  as  a  sign  that  God  has  no  pleasure  in  destruction, 
that  He  does  not  give  way  to  moods,  that  He  does  not 
always  chide,  that  if  weeping  may  endure  for  a  night 
joy  is  sure  to  follow.  If  any  one  is  under  a  cloud, 
leading  a  joyless,  hopeless,  heartless  life,  if  any  one  has 
much  apparent  reason  to  suppose  that  God  has  given 


74  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

him  up  to  catastrophe,  and  lets  things  run  as  they  may, 
there  is  some  satisfaction  in  reading  this  natural  emblem 
and  recognising  that  without  the  cloud,  nay,  without 
the  cloud  breaking  into  heavy  sweeping  rains,  there 
cannot  be  the  bow,  and  that  no  cloud  of  God's  sending 
is  permanent,  but  will  one  day  give  place  to  unclouded 
joy.  Let  the  prayer  of  David  be  yours,  "  I  know,  O 
Lord,  that  Thy  judgments  are  right,  and  that  Thou  in 
faithfulness  hast  afQicted  me.  Let,  I  pray  Thee,  Thy 
merciful  kindness  be  for  my  comfort  according  to  Thy 
word  unto  Thy  servant." 

It  may  be  felt  that  the  matters  about  which  God 
spoke  to  Noah  were  barely  religious,  certainly  not 
spiritual.  But  to  take  God  as  our  God  in  any  one 
particular  is  to  take  Him  as  our  God  for  all.  If  we 
can  eat  our  daily  bread  as  given  to  us  by  our  Father  in 
heaven,  then  we  are  heirs  of  the  righteousness  which 
is  by  faith.  It  is  because  we  wait  for  some  wonderful 
and  out-of-the-way  proofs  that  God  is  keeping  faith 
with  us  that  we  so  much  lack  a  real  and  living  faith. 
If  you  think  of  God  only  in  connection  with  some 
spiritual  difficulty,  or  if  you  are  waiting  for  some 
critical  spiritual  experience  about  which  you  may 
deal  with  God, — if  you  are  not  transacting  with  Him 
about  your  daily  work,  about  your  temporal  wants 
and  difficulties,  about  your  friendships  and  your 
tastes,  about  that  which  makes  up  the  bulk  of  your 
thought,  feeling,  and  action,  then  you  have  yet  to 
learn  what  living  with  God  means.  You  have  yet  to 
learn  that  God  the  Infinite  Creator  of  all  is  present 
in  all  your  life.  We  are  not  in  advance  of  Noah,  but 
behind  him,  if  we  cannot  speak  to  God  about  common 
things. 

Besides,  the  relation  of  man  to  Gcd  was  sufficiently 


Gen.  ix,  20-27.]  NOAH'S  FALL.  75 

determined  by  this  covenant.  When  any  man  in  that 
age  began  to  ask  himself  the  question  which  all  men  in 
all  ages  ask,  How  shall  I  win  the  favour  of  God  ?  it 
must,  or  it  might,  at  once  have  struck  him,  Why.  God 
has  already  favoured  me  and  has  bound  Himself  to  me 
b}''  express  and  solemn  pledges.  And  radically  this  is 
all  that  any  one  needs  to  know.  It  is  not  a  change  in 
God's  attitude  towards  you  that  is  required.  What  is 
required  is  that  you  believe  what  is  actually  the  case, 
that  the  Holy  God  ioves  you  already  and  is  already 
seeking  to  bless  you  by  making  you  like  Himself. 
Believe  that,  and  let  the  faith  of  it  sink  more  and  more 
deeply  into  your  spirit,  and  you  will  find  that  you  are 
saved  from  your  sin. 

What  remains  to  be  told  of  Noah  is  full  of  moral 
significance.  Rare  indeed  is  a  wholly  good  man ;  and 
happy  indeed  is  he  who  throughout  his  youth,  his  man- 
hood, and  his  age  lets  principle  govern  all  his  actions. 
The  righteous  and  rescued  Noah  lying  drunk  on  his 
tent-floor  is  a  sorrowful  spectacle.  God  had  given  him 
the  earth,  and  this  was  the  use  he  made  of  the  gift ; 
melancholy  presage  of  the  fashion  of  his  posterity.  He 
had  God  to  help  him  to  bear  his  responsibilities,  to  re- 
fresh and  gladden  him ;  but  he  preferred  the  fruit  of  his 
vineyard.  Can  the  most  sacred  or  impressive  memories 
secure  a  man  against  sin  ?  Noah  had  the  memory  of 
a  race  drowned  lor  sin  and  of  a  year  in  solitude  with 
God.  Can  the  dignity  and  weight  of  responsibility 
steady  a  man  ?  This  man  knew  that  to  him  God  had 
declared  His  purpose  and  that  he  only  could  carry  it 
forward  to  fulfilment.  In  that  heavy  helpless  figure, 
fallen  insensible  in  his  tent,  is  as  significant  a  warning 
as  in  the  Flood. 

Noah's   sin   brings   before   us   two   facts    about    sin. 


76  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

First,  that  the  smaller  temptations  are  often  the  most 
effectual.  The  man  who  is  invulnerable  on  the  field  of 
battle  amidst  declared  and  strong  enemies  falls  an  easy 
prey  to  the  assassin  in  his  own  home.  When  all  the 
world  was  against  him,  Noah  was  able  to  face  single- 
handed  both  scorn  and  violence,  but  in  the  midst  of  his 
vineyard,  among  his  own  people  who  understood  him 
and  needed  no  preaching  or  proof  of  his  virtue,  he 
relaxed. 

He  was  no  longer  in  circumstances  so  difficult  as  to 
force  him  to  watch  and  pray,  as  to  drive  him  to  God's 
side.  The  temptations  Noah  had  before  known  were 
mainly  from  without ;  he  now  learnt  that  those  from 
within  are  more  serious.  Many  of  us  find  it  com- 
paratively easy  to  carry  clean  hands  before  the  public, 
or  to  demean  ourselves  with  tolerable  seemliness  in 
circumstances  where  the  temptation  may  be  very  strong 
but  is  also  very  patent ;  but  how  careless  are  we  often 
in  our  domestic  life,  and  how  little  strain  do  we  put 
upon  ourselves  in  the  company  of  those  whom  we  can 
trust.  What  petulance  and  irritability,  what  angry 
and  slanderous  words,  what  sensuality  and  indolence 
could  our  own  homes  witness  to  !  Noah  is  not  the  only 
man  who  has  walked  uprightly  and  kept  his  garment 
unspotted  from  the  world  so  long  as  the  eye  of  man 
was  on  him,  but  who  has  lain  uncovered  on  his  own 
tent-floor. 

Secondly,  we  see  here  how  a  man  may  fall  into 
new  forms  of  sin,  and  are  reminded  especially  of  one  of 
the  most  distressing  facts  to  be  observed  in  the  world, 
viz.,  that  men  in  their  prime  and  even  in  their  old  age 
are  sometimes  overtaken  in  sins  of  sensuality  from 
which  hitherto  they  have  kept  themselves  pure.  We 
are  very  ready  to  think  we    know  the    full    extent  of 


Gen.  ix.  20-27.]  NOAH'S  FALL.  77 

wickedness  to  which  we  may  go ;  that  by  certain  sins 
tvc  shall  never  be  much  tempted.  And  in  some  of  our 
predictions  we  may  be  correct;  our  temperament  or 
oar  circumstances  may  absolutely  preclude  some  sins 
from  mastering  us.  Yet  who  has  made  but  a  slight 
alteration  in  his  circumstances,  added  a  little  to  his 
business,  made  some  new  family  arrangements,  or 
changed  his  residence,  without  being  astonished  to  find 
how  many  new  sources  of  evil  seem  to  have  been 
opened  within  him  ?  While  therefore  you  rejoice  over 
sins  defeated,  beware  of  thinking  your  work  is  nearly 
done.  Especially  let  those  of  us  who  have  for  years  been 
fighting  mainly  against  one  sin  beware  of  thinking  that 
if  only  that  were  defeated  we  should  be  free  from  sin. 
As  a  man  who  has  long  suffered  from  one  bodily  disease 
congratulates  himself  that  at  least  he  knows  Vv^hat  he 
may  expect  in  the  way  of  pain,  and  will  not  suffer  as 
some  other  man  he  has  heard  of  does  suffer ;  whereas 
though  one  disease  may  kill  others,  yet  some  diseases 
only  prepare  the  body  for  the  assault  of  worse  ailments 
than  themselves,  and  the  constitution  at  last  breaks  up 
under  a  combination  of  ills  that  make  the  sufferer  a 
pity  to  his  friends  and  a  perplexity  to  his  physicians. 
And  so  is  it  in  the  spirit ;  you  cannot  say  that  because 
you  are  so  consumed  by  one  infirmity,  others  can  find 
no  room  in  you.  In  short,  there  is  nothing  that  can 
secure  us  against  the  unspeakable  calamity  of  falling  into 
new  sins,  except  the  direction  given  by  our  Lord, 
"  Watch  and  pray,  lest  ye  enter  into  temptation."  There 
is  need  of  watching,  else  this  precept  had  never  been 
uttered ;  too  many  things  absolutely  needful  for  us  to 
do  have  to  be  enjoined  upon  us  to  leave  any  room  for  the 
injunction  of  precepts  that  are  unnecessary,  and  he 
who  is  not  watching  has  no  security  that  he  shall  not 


78  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

sin  so  as  to  be  a  scandal  to  his  friends  and  a  shame  to 
himself. 

Noah's  sin  brought  to  light  the  character  of  his  three 
sons — the  coarse  irreverence  of  Ham,  the  dignified  deli- 
cacy and  honour  of  Shem  and  Japheth,  The  bearing 
of  men  towards  the  sins  of  others  is  always  a  touch- 
stone of  character.  The  full  exposure  of  sin  where 
good  is  expected  to  come  of  the  exposure  and  when  it 
is  done  with  sorrow  and  with  shame  is  one  thing,  and 
the  exposure  of  sin  to  create  a  laugh  and  merely  to 
amuse  is  another.  They  are  the  true  descendants  of 
Ham,  whether  their  faces  be  black  or  white,  and  whether 
they  go  with  no  clothes  or  v.ith  clothes  that  are  the 
product  of  much  thought  and  anxiet}^,  who  find  pleasure 
in  the  mere  contemplation  of  deeds  of  shame,  in  real 
life,  on  the  boards  of  the  theatre,  in  daily  journals,  or 
in  works  of  fiction.  Extremes  meet,  and  the  savage 
grossness  of  Ham  is  found  in  many  who  count  them- 
selves the  last  and  finest  product  of  culture.  It  is  found 
also  in  the  harder  and  narrower  set  of  modern  investi- 
gators, who  glory  in  exposing  the  scientific  weakness 
of  our  forefathers,  and  make  a  jest  of  the  mistakes  of 
men  to  whom  they  owe  much  of  their  freedom,  and 
whose  shoe  latchet  they  are  not  worthy  to  tie,  so  far  as 
the  deeper  moral  qualities  go. 

But  neither  is  religious  society  free  from  this  same 
sin.  The  faults  and  mistakes  and  sins  of  others  are 
talked  over,  possibly  with  some  show  of  regret,  but  with, 
as  we  know,  very  little  real  shame  and  sadness,  for  these 
feelings  prompt  us,  not  to  talk  them  over  in  companies 
where  no  good  can  be  done  in  the  way  of  remedy,  but 
to  cover  them  as  these  sorrowing  sons  of  Noah,  with 
averted  eye  and  humbled  head.  Charity  is  the  prime 
grace  enjoined  upon  us  and  charity  covers  a  multitude 


Gen,  ix.  20-27.]  NOAH'S  FALL.  79 

of  sins.  And  whatever  excuses  for  exposing  others  we 
may  make,  however  we  may  say  it  is  only  a  love  of 
truth  and  fair  play  that  makes  us  drag  to  light  the 
infirmities  of  a  man  whom  others  are  praising,  we  may 
be  very  sure  that  if  all  evil  motives  were  absent  this 
kind  of  evil  speaking  would  cease  among  us.  But 
there  is  a  malignity  in  sin  that  leaves  its  bitter  root  in 
us  all,  and  causes  us  to  be  glad  when  those  whom 
we  have  been  regarding  as  our  superiors  are  reduced 
to  our  poor  level.  And  there  is  a  cowardliness  in 
sin  which  cannot  bear  to  be  alone,  and  eagerly  hails 
every  symptom  of  others  being  in  the  same  condem- 
nation. 

Before  exposing  another,  think  first  whether  your 
own  conduct  could  bear  a  similar  treatment,  whether 
you  have  never  done  the  thing  you  desire  to  conceal, 
said  the  thing  you  would  blush  to  hear  repeated,  or 
thought  the  thought  you  could  not  bear  another  to 
read.  And  if  you  be  a  Christian,  does  it  not  become 
you  to  remember  what  you  yourself  have  learnt  of  the 
slipperiness  of  this  world's  ways,  of  your  liability  to 
fall,  of  your  sudden  exposure  to  sin  from  some  physical 
disorder,  or  some  slight  mistake  which  greatly  ex- 
tenuates your  sin,  but  which  you  could  not  plead  before 
another  ?  And  do  you  know  nothing  of  the  difficulty  of 
conquering  one  sin  that  is  rooted  in  your  constitution, 
and  the  strife  that  goes  on  in  a  man's  own  soul  and  in 
secret  though  he  show  little  immediate  fruit  of  it  in  his 
life  before  men  ?  Surely  it  becomes  us  to  give  a  man 
credit  for  much  good  resolution  and  much  sore  self- 
denial  and  endeavour,  even  when  he  fails  and  sins  still, 
because  such  we  know  to  be  our  own  case,  and  if  we 
disbelieve  in  others  until  they  can  walk  with  perfect 
rectitude,  if  we  condemn  them  for  one  or  two  flaws  and 


8o  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

blemishes,  we  shall  be  tempted  to  show  the  same  want 
of  charity  towards  ourselves,  and  fall  at  length  into 
that  miserable  and  hopeless  condition  that  believes  in 
no  regenerating  spirit  nor  in  any  holiness  attainable 
by  us. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE    CALL    OF  ABRAHAM. 
Genesis  xi.  27 — xii.  5. 

WITH  Abraham  there  opens  a  new  chapter  in  the 
history  of  the  race;  a  chapter  of  the  profoundest 
significance.  The  consequences  of  Abraham's  move- 
ments and  beliefs  have  been  limitless  and  enduring. 
All  succeeding  time  has  been  influenced  by  him.  And 
yet  there  is  in  his  life  a  remarkable  simplicity,  and 
an  entire  absence  of  such  events  as  impress  contem- 
poraries. Among  all  the  forgotten  millions  of  his  own 
time  he  stands  alone  a  recognisable  and  memorable 
figure.  But  around  his  figure  there  gathers  no  throng 
of  armed  followers  ;  with  his  name,  no  vast  territorial 
dominion,  no  new  legislation,  not  even  any  work  of 
literature  or  art  is  associated.  The  significance  of  his 
life  was  not  military,  nor  legislative,  nor  literary,  but 
religious.  To  him  must  be  carried  back  the  belief 
in  one  God.  We  find  him  born  and  brought  up 
among  idolaters  ;  and  although  it  is  certain  there  were 
others  besides  himself  who  here  and  there  upon  earth 
had  dimly  arrived  at  the  same  belief  as  he,  yet  it  is 
certainly  from  him  the  Monotheistic  belief  has  been 
diffused.  Since  his  day  the  world  has  never  been 
without  its  explicit  advocacy.  It  is  his  belief  in  the 
true  God,  in  a  God  who  manifested  His  existence  and 

6 


82  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

His  nature  by  responding  to  this  belief,  it  is  this  belief 
and  the  place  he  gave  it  as  the  regulating  principle  of 
all  his  movements  and  thoughts,  that  have  given  him 
his  everlasting  influence. 

With  Abraham  there  is  also  introduced  the  first  step 
in  a  new  method  adopted  by  God  in  the  training  of 
men.  The  dispersion  of  men  and  the  divergence 
of  their  languages  are  now  seen  to  have  been  the 
necessary  preliminary  to  this  new  step  in  the  education 
of  the  world — the  fencing  round  of  one  people  till 
h  ey  should  learn  to  know  God  and  understand  and 
xemplify  His  government.  It  is  true,  God  reveals 
Himself  to  all  men  and  governs  all ;  but  by  selecting 
one  race  with  special  adaptations,  and  by  giving  to 
it  a  special  training,  God  might  more  securely  and 
more  rapidly  reveal  Himself  to  all.  Each  nation  has 
certain  characteristics,  a  national  character  which  grows 
by  seclusion  from  the  influences  which  are  forming 
other  races.  There  is  a  certain  mental  and  moral 
individuality  stamped  upon  every  separate  people. 
Nothing  is  more  certainly  retained ;  nothing  more 
certainly  handed  down  from  generation  to  generation. 
It  would  therefore  be  a  good  practical  means  of  con- 
serving and  deepening  the  knowledge  of  God,  if  it 
were  made  the  national  interest  of  a  people  to  preserve 
it,  and  if  it  were  closely  identified  with  the  national 
characteristics.  This  was  the  method  adopted  by  God. 
He  meant  to  combine  allegiance  to  Himself  with  national 
advantages,  and  spiritual  with  national  character,  and 
separation  in  belief  with  a  distinctly  outlined  and 
defensible  territory. 

This  method,  in  common  with  all  Divine  methods, 
was  in  strict  keeping  with  the  natural  evolution  of 
history.     The  migration  of  Abratvim  occurred    in  the 


Gen.xi.27— xii.5]     THE  CALL    OF  ABRAHAM.  83 

epoch  of  migrations.  But  although  for  centuries  before 
Abraham  new  nations  had  been  forming,  none  of 
them  had  behef  in  God  as  its  formative  principle. 
Wave  upon  w^ave  of  warriors,  shepherds,  colonists  have 
left  the  prolific  plains  of  Mesopotamia.  Swarm  after 
swarm  has  left  that  busy  hive,  pushing  one  another 
further  and  further  west  and  east,  but  all  have  been 
urged  by  natural  impulses,  b^/  hunger,  commerce,  love 
of  adventure  and  conquest.  By  natural  likings  and 
dislikings,  by  policy,  and  by  dint  of  force  the  multitud- 
inous tribes  of  men  were  finding  their  places  in  the 
world,  the  weaker  being  driven  to  the  hills,  and  being 
schooled  there  by  hard  living  till  their  descendants  came 
down  and  conquered  their  conquerors.  All  this  went  on 
without  regard  to  any  very  high  motives.  As  it  was 
with  the  Goths  who  invaded  Italy  for  her  wealth,  as 
it  is  now  with  those  who  people  America  and  Africa 
because  there  is  land  or  room  enough,  so  it  was  then. 
But  at  last  God  selects  one  man  and  says,  "  /  will 
make  of  thee  a  great  nation."  The  origin  of  this  nation 
is  not  facile  love  of  change  nor  lust  of  territory,  but 
belief  in  God.  Without  this  belief  this  people  had  not 
been.  No  other  account  can  be  given  of  its  origin. 
Abraham  is  himself  already  the  member  of  a  tribe, 
well-off  and  likely  to  be  well-off;  he  has  no  large 
family  to  provide  for,  but  he  is  separated  from  his 
kindred  and  country,  and  led  out  to  be  himself  a  new 
beginning,  and  this  because,  as  he  himself  throughout 
his  life  said,  he  heard  God's  call  and  responded  to  it. 

The  city  which  claims  the  distinction  of  being 
Abraham's  birthplace,  or  at  least  of  giving  its  name  to 
the  district  where  he  was  born,  is  now  represented  by 
a  few  mounds  of  ruins  rising  out  of  the  flat  marshy 
ground  on  the  western  bank  of  the  Euphrates,  not  far 


!     <► 


84  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

above  the  point  where  it  joins  its  waters  to  those  of  the 
Tigris  and  glides  on  to  the  Persian  gulf.  In  the  time 
of  Abraham,  Ur  was  the  capital  city  which  gave  its 
name  to  one  of  the  most  populous  and  fertile  regions  of 
the  earth.  The  whole  land  of  Accad  which  ran  up  from 
the  sea-coast  to  Upper  Mesopotamia  (or  Shinar)  seems 
to  have  been  known  as  Ur-ma,  the  land  of  Ur.  This 
land  was  of  no  great  extent,  being  little  if  at  all  larger 
than  Scotland,  but  it  was  the  richest  of  Asia.  The  high 
civilisation  which  this  land  enjoyed  even  in  the  time  of 
Abraham,  has  been  disclosed  in  the  abundant  and  multi- 
farious Babylonian  remains  which  have  recently  been 
brought  to  light. 

What  induced  Terah  to  abandon  so  prosperous  a 
land  can  only  be  conjectured.  It  is  possible  that  the 
idolatrous  customs  of  the  inhabitants  ma}'^  have  had 
something  to  do  with  his  movements.  For  while  the 
ancient  Babylonian  records  reveal  a  civilisation  sur- 
prisingly advanced,  and  a  social  order  in  some  respects 
admirable,  they  also  make  disclosures  regarding  the 
worship  of  the  gods  which  must  shock  even  those  who 
are  familiar  with  the  immoralities  frequently  fostered 
by  heathen  religions.  The  city  of  Ur  was  not  only 
the  capital,  it  was  the  holy  city  of  the  Chaldeans.  In 
its  northern  quarter  rose  high  above  the  surrounding 
buildings  the  successive  stages  of  the  temple  of  the 
moon-god,  culminating  in  a  platform  on  which  the 
priests  could  both  accurately  observe  the  motions  of  the 
stars  and  hold  their  night-watches  in  honour  of  their 
god.  In  the  courts  of  this  temple  might  be  heard 
breaking  the  silence  of  midnight,  one  of  those  magnifi- 
cent hymns,  still  preserved,  in  which  idolatry  is  seen  in 
its  most  attractive  dress,  and  in  which  the  Lord  of  Ur 
is  invoked  in  terms  not  unworthy  of  the  living  God. 


Gen.  xi.  27— xii.  5.]     THE   CALL   OF  ABRAHAM.  85 

But  in  these  same  temple-courts  Abraham  may  have 
seen  the  firstborn  led  to  the  altar,  the  fruit  of  the  body 
sacrificed  to  atone  for  the  sin  of  the  soul ;  and  here  too 
he  must  have  seen  other  sights  even  more  shocking 
and  repulsive.  Here  he  was  no  doubt  taught  that 
strangely  mixed  religion  which  clung  for  generations 
to  some  members  of  his  family.  Certainly  he  was 
taught  in  common  with  the  whole  community  to  rest  on 
the  seventh  day ;  as  he  was  trained  to  look  to  the  stars 
with  reverence  and  to  the  moon  as  something  more 
than  the  light  which  was  set  to  rule  the  night. 

Possibly  then  Terah  may  have  been  induced  to 
move  northwards  by  a  desire  to  shake  himself  free  from 
customs  he  disapproved.  The  Hebrews/'  themselves 
seem  always  to  have  considered  that  his  migration  had 
a  religious  motive.  "  This  people,"  says  one  of  their 
old  writings,  "  is  descended  from  the  Chaldeans,  and 
they  sojourned  heretofore  in  Mesopotamia  because 
they  would  not  follow  the  gods  of  their  fathers  which 
were  in  the  land  of  Chaldea.  For  they  left  the  way  of 
their  ancestors  and  worshipped  the  God  of  heaven,  the 
God  whom  they  knew ;  so  they  cast  them  out  from  the 
face  of  their  gods,  and  they  fled  into  Mesopotamia  and 
sojourned  there  many  days.  Then  their  God  commanded 
them  to  depart  from  the  place  where  they  sojourned  and 
to  go  into  the  land  of  Canaan."  But  if  this  is  a  true 
account  of  the  origin  of  the  movement  northwards,  it 
must  have  been  Abraham  rather  than  his  father  who 
was  the  moving  spirit  of  it ;  for  it  is  certainly  Abraham 
and  not  Terah  who  stands  as  the  significant  figure 
inaugurating  the  new  era. 

If  doubt  rests  on  the  moving  cause  of  the  migration 
from  Ur,  none  rests  on  that  which  prompted  Abraham 
to  leave   Charran    and  journey  towards  Canaan.     He 


86  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

did  so  in  obedience  to  what  he  believed  to  be  a  Divine 
command,  and  in  faith  on  what  he  understood  to  be  a 
Divine  promise.  How  he  became  aware  that  a  Divine 
command  thus  lay  upon  him  we  do  not  know.  No- 
thing could  persuade  him  that  he  was  not  commanded. 
Day  by  day  he  heard  in  his  soul  what  he  recognised  as 
a  Divine  voice,  saying  :  "  Get  thee  out  of  thy  country 
and  from  thy  kindred  and  from  thy  father's  house,  unto 
a  land  that  I  will  show  thee !  "  This  was  God's  first 
revelation  of  Himself  to  Abraham.  Up  to  this  time 
Abraham  to  all  appearance  had  no  knowledge  of  any 
God  but  the  deities  worshipped  by  his  fathers  in 
Chaldea.  Now,  he  finds  within  himself  impulses 
which  he  cannot  resist  and  which  he  is  conscious  he 
ought  not  to  resist.  He  believes  it  to  be  his  duty  to 
adopt  a  course  which  may  look  foolish  and  which  he 
can  justify  only  by  saying  that  his  conscience  bids  him. 
He  recognises,  apparently  for  the  first  time,  that 
through  his  conscience  there  speaks  to  him  a  God  Who 
is  supreme.  In  dependence  on  this  God  he  gathered 
his  possessions  together  and  departed. 

So  far,  one  may  be  tempted  to  say,  no  very  unusual 
faith  was  required.  Many  a  poor  girl  has  followed  a 
weakly  brother  or  a  dissipated  father  to  Australia  or 
the  wild  west  of  America  ;  many  a  lad  has  gone  to  the 
deadly  west  coast  of  Africa  with  no  such  prospects  as 
Abraham.  For  Abraham  had  the  double  prospect 
which  makes  migration  desirable.  Assure  the  colonist 
that  he  will  find  land  and  have  strong  sons  to  till  and 
hold  and  leave  it  to,  and  you  give  him  all  the  motive  he 
requires.  These  were  the  promises  made  to  Abraham — 
a  land  and  a  seed.  Neither  was  there  at  this  period 
much  difficulty  in  believing  that  both  promises  would 
be  fulfilled.     The  land  he  no  doubt    expected  to  find 


Gen.xi.27— xii.S.]     THE   CALL   OF  ABRAHAM.  87 

in  some  unoccupied  territory.  And  as  regards  the 
children,  he  had  not  yet  faced  the  condition  that  only 
through  Sarah  was  this  part  of  the  promise  to  be  ful- 
filled. 

But  the  peculiarity  in  Abraham's  abandonment  of 
present  certainties  for  the  sake  of  a  future  and  unseen 
good  is,  that  it  was  prompted  not  by  family  affection  or 
greed  or  an  adventurous  disposition,  but  by  faith  in  a 
God  Whom  no  one  but  himself  recognised.  It  was 
the  first  step  in  a  life-long  adherence  to  an  Invisible, 
Spiritual  Supreme.  It  was  that  first  step  which  com- 
mitted him  to  life-long  dependence  upon  and  intercourse 
with  One  Who  had  authority  to  regulate  his  move- 
ments and  power  to  bless  him.  From  this  time  forth 
all  that  he  sought  in  life  was  the  fulfilment  of  God's 
promise.  He  staked  his  future  upon  God's  existence 
and  faithfulness.  Had  Abraham  abandoned  Charran  at 
the  command  of  a  widely  ruling  monarch  who  promised 
him  ample  compensation,  no  record  would  have  been 
made  of  so  ordinary  a  transaction.  But  this  was  an 
entirely  new  thing  and  well  worth  recording,  that  a 
man  should  leave  country  and  kindred  and  seek  an  un- 
known land  under  the  impression  that  thus  he  was 
obeying  the  command  of  the  unseen  God.  While 
others  worshipped  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  and  recognised 
the  Divine  in  their  brilliance  and  power,  in  their  exalta- 
tion above  earth  and  control  of  earth  and  its  life, 
Abraham  saw  that  there  was  something  greater  than 
the  order  of  nature  and  more  worthy  of  worship,  even 
the  still  small  voice  that  spoke  within  his  own  con- 
science of  right  and  wrong  in  human  conduct,  and  that 
told  him  how  his  own  life  must  be  ordered.  While  all 
around  him  were  bowing  down  to  the  heavenly  host 
and  sacrificing  to  them  the  highest  things  in  human 


88  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

nature,  he  heard  a  voice  falhng  from  these  shining 
ministers  of  God's  will,  which  said  to  him,  "  See  thou 
do  it  not,  for  we  are  thy  fellow-servants  ;  worship  thou 
God  ! "  This  was  the  triumph  of  the  spiritual  over  the 
material ;  the  acknowledgment  that  in  God  there  is 
something  greater  than  can  be  found  in  nature  ;  that 
man  finds  his  true  affinity  not  in  the  things  that  are 
seen  but  in  the  unseen  Spirit  that  is  over  all.  It  is 
this  that  gives  to  the  figure  of  Abraham  its  simple 
grandeur  and  its  permanent  significance. 

Under  the  simple  statement  "The  Lord  said  unto 
Abram,  Get  thee  out  of  thy  country,"  there  are  probably 
hidden  years  of  questioning  and  meditation.  God's 
revelation  of  Himself  to  Abram  in  all  probability  did 
not  take  the  determinate  form  of  articulate  command 
without  having  passed  through  many  preliminary  stages 
of  surmise  and  doubt  and  mental  conflict.  But  once 
assured  that  God  is  calling  him,  Abraham  responds 
quickly  and  resolutely.  The  revelation  has  come  to 
a  mind  in  which  it  will  not  be  lost.  As  one  of  the  few 
theologians  who  have  paid  attention  to  the  m.ethod 
of  revelation  has  said  :  "A  Divine  revelation  does  not 
dispense  with  a  certain  character  and  certain  qualities 
of  mind  in  the  person  who  is  the  instrument  of 
it.  A  man  who  throws  off  the  chains  of  authority 
and  association  must  be  a  man  of  extraordinary  in- 
dependence and  strength  of  mind,  although  he  does  so 
in  obedience  to  a  Divine  revelation  ;  because  no  miracle, 
no  sign  or  wonder  which  accompanies  a  revelation  can 
by  its  simple  stroke  force  human  nature  from  the  innate 
hold  of  custom  and  the  adhesion  to  and  fear  of  esta- 
blished opinion ;  can  enable  it  to  confront  the  frowns 
of  men,  and  take  up  truth  opposed  to  general  prejudice, 
except  there  is  in  the  man  himself,  who  is  the  reci- 


Gen.  xi.  27— xii.  5.]     THE   CALL   OF  ABRAHAM.  89 

pient  of  the  revelation,  a  certain  strength  of  mind  and 
independence  which  concurs  with  the  Divine  intention." 

That  Abraham's  faith  triumphed  over  exceptional 
difficulties  and  enabled  him  to  do  what  no  other  motive 
would  have  been  strong  enough  to  accomplish,  there  is 
therefore  no  call  to  assert.  During  his  after-life  his 
faith  was  severely  tried,  but  the  mere  abandonment  of 
his  country  in  the  hope  of  gaining  a  better  was  the 
ordinary  motive  of  his  day.  It  was  the  ground  of  this 
hope,  the  belief  in  God,  which  made  Abraham's  conduct 
original  and  fruitful.  That  sufficient  inducement  was 
presented  to  him  is  only  to  say  that  God  is  reasonable. 
There  is  always  sufiicient  inducement  to  obey  God ; 
because  life  is  reasonable.  No  man  was  ever  com- 
manded or  required  to  do  anything  which  it  was  not 
for  his  advantage  to  do.  Sin  is  a  mistake.  But  so 
weak  are  we,  so  liable  to  be  moved  by  the  things 
present  to  us  and  by  the  desire  for  immediate  gratifi- 
cation, that  it  never  ceases  to  be  wonderful  and  admir- 
able when  a  sense  of  duty  enables  a  man  to  forego 
present  advantage  and  to  believe  that  present  loss  is 
the  needful  preliminary  of  eternal  gain. 

Abraham's  faith  is  chosen  by  the  author  of  the  Epistle 
to  the  Hebrews  as  an  apt  illustration  of  his  definition  of 
Faith,  that  it  is  "the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the 
evidence  of  things  not  seen."  One  property  of  faith  is 
that  it  gives  to  things  future  and  which  are  as  yet  only 
hoped  for  all  the  reality  of  actual  present  existence. 
Future  things  may  be  said  to  have  no  existence  for 
those  who  do  not  believe  in  them.  They  are  not  taken 
into  account.  Men  do  not  shape  their  conduct  with 
any  reference  to  them.  But  when  a  man  believes  in 
certain  events  that  are  to  be,  this  faith  of  his  lends  to 
these  future  things  the  reality,  the  "  substance "  which 


90  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

things  actually  existing  in  the  present  have.  They 
have  the  same  weight  with  him,  the  same  influence 
upon  his  conduct. 

Without  some  power  to  realize  the  future  and  to 
take  account  of  what  is  to  be  as  well  as  of  what  already 
is,  we  could  not  carry  on  the  common  affairs  of  life. 
And  success  in  life  very  greatly  depends  on  foresight, 
or  the  power  to  see  clearly  what  is  to  be  and  give  it 
due  weight.  The  man  who  has  no  foresight  makes  his 
plans,  but  being  unable  to  apprehend  the  future  his 
plans  are  disconcerted.  Indeed  it  is  one  of  the  most 
valuable  gifts  a  man  can  have,  to  be  able  to  say  with 
tolerable  accuracy  what  is  to  happen  and  what  is  not ; 
to  be  able  to  sift  rumours,  common  talk,  popular  im- 
pressions, probabilities,  chances,  and  to  be  able  to  feel 
sure  what  the  future  will  really  be ;  to  be  able  to  weigh 
the  character  and  commercial  prospects  of  the  men  he 
deals  with,  so  as  to  see  what  must  be  the  issue  of  their 
operations  and  whom  he  may  trust.  Many  of  our 
most  serious  mistakes  in  life  arise  from  our  inability  to 
imagine  the  consequences  of  our  actions  and  to  forefeel 
how  these  consequences  will  affect  us. 

Now  faith  largely  supplies  the  want  of  this  imagi- 
native foresight.  It  lends  substance  to  things  future. 
It  believes  the  account  given  of  the  future  by  a  trust- 
worthy authority.  In  many  ordinary  matters  all  men 
are  dependent  on  the  testimony  of  others  for  their 
knowledge  of  the  resu't  of  certain  operations.  The 
astronomer,  the  physiol  gist,  the  navigator,  each  has 
his  department  within  which  his  predictions  are  ac- 
cepted as  authoritative.  But  for  what  is  beyond  the 
ken  of  science  no  faith  in  our  fellow-men  avails.  Feeling 
that  if  there  is  a  life  bi^yond  the  grave,  it  must  have 
important   bearings  on  the   present,  we   have   yet  no 


Gen.xi.27-xii.5.]     THE   CALL    OF  ABRAHAM.  91 

data  by  which  to  calculate  what  will  then  be,  or  only 
data  so  difficult  to  use  that  our  calculations  are  but 
guesswork.  But  faith  accepts  the  testimony  of  God 
as  unhesitatingly  as  that  of  man  and  gives  reality  to 
the  future  He  describes  and  promises.  It  believes  that 
the  life  God  calls  us  to  is  a  better  life,  and  it  enters 
upon  it.  It  believes  that  there  is  a  world  to  come  in 
which  all  things  are  new  and  all  things  eternal ;  and, 
so  believing,  it  cannot  but  feel  less  anxious  to  cling  to 
this  world's  goods.  That  which  embitters  all  loss  and 
deepens  sorrow  is  the  feeling  that  this  world  is  all ;  but 
faith  makes  eternity  as  real  as  time  and  gives  sub- 
stantial existence  to  that  new  and  limitless  future  in 
which  we  shall  have  time  to  forget  the  sorrows  and  live 
past  the  losses  of  this  present  world. 

The  radical  elements  of  greatness  are  identical  from 
age  to  age,  and  the  primal  duties  which  no  good  man 
can  evade  do  not  vary  as  the  world  grows  older.  What 
we  admire  in  Abraham  we  feel  to  be  incumbent  on 
ourselves.  Indeed  the  uniform  call  of  Christ  to  all 
His  followers  is  even  in  form  almost  identical  with 
that  which  stirred  Abraham,  and  made  him  the  father 
of  the  faithful.  "  Follow  Me,"'  sa3^s  our  Lord,  "  and 
every  one  that  forsaketh  houses,  or  brethren,  or 
sisters,  or  father,  or  mother,  or  wife,  or  children,  or 
lands,  for  My  name's  sake,  shall  receive  an  hundredfold, 
and  shall  inherit  everlasting  life."  And  there  is  some- 
thing perennially  edifying  in  the  spectacle  of  a  man 
who  believes  that  God  has  a  place  and  a  use  for  him 
in  the  world,  and  who  puts  himself  at  God's  disposal ; 
who  enters  upon  life  refusing  to  be  bound  by  the 
circumstances  of  his  upbringing,  by  the  expectations 
of  his  friends,  by  prevailing  customs,  by  prospect  of 
gain  and    advancement  among  men ;    and  resolved    to 


92  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

listen  to  the  highest  voice  of  all,  to  discover  what  God 
has  for  him  to  do  upon  earth  and  where  he  is  likely 
to  find  most  of  God ;  who  virtually  and  with  deepest 
sincerity  says,  Let  God  choose  my  destination  :  I  have 
good  land  here,  but  if  God  wishes  me  elsewhere,  else- 
where I  go  :  who,  in  one  word,  believes  in  the  call 
of  God  to  himself,  who  admits  it  into  the  springs 
of  his  conduct,  and  recognises  that  for  him  als'^o  the 
highest  life  his  conscience  can  suggest  is  the  only 
life  he  can  live,  no  matter  how  cumbrous  and  trouble- 
some and  expensive  be  the  changes  involved  in  entering 
it.  Let  the  spectacle  take  hold  of  your  imagination — 
the  spectacle  of  a  man  believing  that  there  is  something 
more  akin  to  himself  and  higher  than  the  mJi^-'ia'.  life 
and  the  great  laws  that  govern  it,  and  going  calmly 
and  hopefully  forward  into  the  unknown,  because  he 
knows  that  God  is  with  him,  that  in  God  is  our  true 
life,  that  man  liveth  not  by  bread  only,  but  by  every 
word  that  cometh  out  of  the  mouth  of  God. 

Even  thus  then  may  we  bring  our  faith  to  a  true 
and  reliable  test.  All  men  who  have  a  confident  ex- 
pectation of  future  good  make  sacrifices  or  run  risks 
to  obtain  it.  Mercantile  life  proceeds  on  the  under- 
standing that  such  ventures  are  reasonable  and  will 
always  be  made.  Men  might  if  they  liked  spend  their 
money  on  present  pleasure,  but  they  rarely  do  so. 
They  prefer  to  put  it  into  concerns  or  transactions  from 
which  they  expect  to  reap  large  returns.  They  have 
faith  and  as  a  necessary  consequence  they  make  ven- 
tures. So  did  these  Hebrews — they  ran  a  great  risk, 
they  gave  up  the  sole  means  of  livelihood  they  had  any 
experience  of  and  entered  what  they  knew  to  be  a  bare 
desert,  because  they  believed  in  the  land  that  lay 
beyond  and  in  God's  promise.     What  then    has  your 


Gen.xi,27— xii.  S-]     THE  CALL    OF  ABRAHAM.  93 

faith  done  ?  What  have  you  ventured  that  you  would 
not  have  ventured  but  for  God's  promise  ?  Suppose 
Christ's  promise  failed,  in  what  would  you  be  the 
losers  ?  Of  course  you  would  lose  what  you  call  your 
hope  of  heaven — but  what  would  you  find  you  had  lost 
in  this  world  ?  When  a  merchant's  ships  are  wrecked 
or  when  his  investment  turns  out  bad,  he  loses  not 
only  the  gain  he  hoped  for,  but  the  means  he  risked. 
Suppose  then  Christ  were  declared  bankrupt,  unable 
to  fulfil  your  expectations,  would  you  really  find  that 
you  had  ventured  so  much  upon  His  promise  that  you 
are  deeply  involved  in  His  bankruptcy,  and  are  much 
worse  off  in  this  world  and  now  than  you  would  other- 
wise ha'"^e  been  ?  Or  may  I  not  use  the  Vv^ords  of  one 
of  the  most  cautious  and  charitable  of  men,  and  say, 
"  I  really  fear,  when  we  come  to  examine,  it  will  be 
found  that  there  is  nothing  we  resolve,  nothing  we  do, 
nothing  we  do  not  do,  nothing  we  avoid,  nothing  we 
choose,  nothing  we  give  up,  nothing  we  pursue,  which 
we  should  not  resolve,  and  do,  and  not  do,  and  avoid, 
and  choose,  and  give  up,  and  pursue,  if  Christ  had  not 
died  and  heaven  were  not  promised  us."  If  this  be 
the  case — if  you  would  be  neither  much  better  nor  much 
worse  though  Christianity  were  a  fable — if  you  have  in 
nothing  become  poorer  in  this  world  that  your  reward 
in  heaven  may  be  greater,  if  you  have  made  no  invest- 
ments and  run  no  risks,  then  really  the  natural  infer- 
ence is  that  your  faith  in  the  future  inheritance  is 
small.  Barnabas  sold  his  Cyprus  property  because  he 
believed  heaven  was  his,  and  his  bit  of  land  suddenly 
became  a  small  consideration ;  useful  only  in  so  far  as 
he  could  with  the  mammon  of  unrighteousness  make 
himself  a  mansion  in  heaven.  Paul  gave  up  his  pros- 
pects of  advancement  in  the  nation,  of  which  he  would 


94  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

of  course  as  certainly  have  become  the  leader  and  first 
man  as  he  took  that  position  in  the  Church,  and  plainly 
tells  us  that  having  made  so  large  a  venture  on  Christ's 
word,  he  would  if  this  word  failed  be  a  great  loser, 
of  all  men  most  miserable  because  he  had  risked  his 
all  in  this  life  on  it.  People  sometimes  take  offence 
at  Paul's  plain  way  of  speaking  of  the  sacrifices  he  had 
made,  and  of  Peter's  plain  way  of  saying  "  we  have  left 
all  and  followed  Thee,  what  shall  we  have  therefore  ?  " 
but  when  people  have  made  sacrifices  they  know  it  and 
can  specify  them,  and  a  faith  that  makes  no  sacrifices 
is  no  good  either  in  this  world's  affairs  or  in  religion. 
Self-consciousness  may  not  be  a  very  good  thing :  but 
self-deception  is  a  worse. 

Here  as  elsewhere  a  clear  hope  sprang  from  faith. 
Recognising  God,  Abraham  knew  that  there  was  for 
men  a  great  future.  He  looked  forward  to  a  time 
when  all  men  should  believe  as  he  did,  and  in  him  all 
families  of  the  earth  be  blessed.  No  doubt  in  these 
early  days  when  all  m.en  were  on  the  move  and  striving 
to  make  a  nam.e  and  a  place  for  themselves,  an  onward 
look  might  be  common.  But  the  far-reaching  extent, 
the  certainty,  and  the  definiteness  of  Abraham's  view 
of  the  future  were  unexampled.  There  far  back  in 
the  hazy  dawn  he  stood  while  the  morning  mists  hid 
the  horizon  from  every  other  eye,  and  he  alone  discerns 
what  is  to  be.  One  clear  voice  and  one  only  rings 
out  in  unfaltering  tones  and  from  amidst  the  babel  of 
voices  that  utter  either  amazing  follies  or  misdirected 
yearnings,  gives  the  one  true  forecast  and  direction — 
the  one  living  word  which  has  separated  itself  from 
and  survived  all  the  prognostications  of  Chaldean  sooth- 
sayers and  priests  of  Ur,  because  it  has  never  ceased 
to  give  life  to  men.     It  has  created  for  itself  a  channel 


Gen.  xi.  27— xii.  5.]     THE   CALL   OF  ABRAHAM.  95 

and  you  can  trace  it  through  the  centuries  by  the  living 
green  of  its  banks  and  the  life  it  gives  as  it  goes.  For 
this  hope  of  Abraham  has  been  fulfilled  ;  the  creed 
and  its  accompanying  blessing  which  that  day  lived 
in  the  heart  of  one  man  only  has  brought  blessing  to 
all  the  families  of  the  earth. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ABRAM    IN    EGYPT. 
Genesis  xii.  6-20. 

ABRAM  still  journeying  southward  and  not  as  yet 
knowing  where  his  shifting  camp  was  finally  to 
be  pitched,  came  at  last  to  what  may  be  called  the  heart 
of  Palestine,  the  rich  district  of  Shechem.  Here  stood 
the  oak  of  Moreh,  a  well-known  landmark  and  favourite 
meeting-place.  In  after  years  every  meadow  in  this 
plain  was  owned  and  occupied,  every  vineyard  on  the 
slopes  of  Ebal  fenced  off,  every  square  yard  specified  in 
some  title-deed.  But  as  yet  the  country  seems  not 
to  have  been  densely  populated.  There  was  room  for  a 
caravan  like  Abram's  to  move  freely  through  the  country, 
liberty  for  a  far-stretching  encampment  such  as  his 
to  occupy  the  lovely  vale  that  lies  between  Ebal  and 
Gerizim.  As  he  rested  here  and  enjoyed  the  abundant 
pasture,  or  as  he  viewed  the  land  from  one  of  the  neigh- 
bouring hills,  the  Lord  appeared  to  him  and  made 
him  aware  that  this  was  the  land  designed  for  him. 
Here  accordingly  under  the  spreading  oak  round  whose 
boughs  had  often  clung  the  smoke  of  idolatrous  sacrifice, 
Abram  erects  an  altar  to  the  living  God  in  devout 
acceptance  of  the  gift,  taking  possession  as  it  were  of 
the  land  jointly  for  God  and  for  himself  Little  harm 
will  come  of  worldly  possessions  so  taken  and  so  held. 


Gen.  xii.  6-20.]  ABRAM  IN  EGYPT.  97 


As  Abram  traversed  the  land,  wondering  what  were 
the  Hmits  of  his  inheritance,  it  may  have  seemed  far  too 
large  for  his  household.  Soon  he  experiences  a  difficulty 
of  quite  the  opposite  kind  ;  he  is  unable  to  find  in  it 
sustenance  for  his  followers.  Any  notion  that  God's 
friendship  would  raise  him  above  the  touch  of  such 
troubles  as  were  incident  to  the  times,  places,  and  cir- 
cumstances in  which  his  life  was  to  be  spent,  is  quickly 
dispelled.  The  children  of  God  are  not  exempt  from 
any  of  the  common  calamities ;  they  are  only  expected 
and  aided  to  be  calmer  and  wiser  in  their  endurance  and 
use  of  them.  That  we  suffer  the  same  hardships  as  all 
other  men  is  no  proof  that  we  are  not  eternally ;  asso- 
ciated with  God,  and  ought  never  to  persuade  us  our 
faith  has  been  in  vain. 

Abram,  as  he  looked  at  the  bare,  brown,  cracked 
pastures  and  at  the  dry  watercourses  filled  only  with 
stones,  thought  of  the  ever-fresh  plains  of  Mesopotamia, 
the  lovely  gardens  of  Damiascus,  the  rich  pasturage  of 
the  northern  borders  of  Canaan  ;  but  he  knew  enough 
of  his  own  heart  to  make  him  very  careful  lest  these 
remembrances  should  make  him  turn  back.  .  No  doubt 
he  had  come  to  the  promised  land  expecting  it  to  be 
the  real  Utopia,  the  Paradise  which  had  haunted  his 
thoughts  as  he  lay  among  the  hills  of  Ur  watching  his 
flocks  under  the  brilliant  midnight  sky.  No  doubt  he 
expected  that  here  all  would  be  easy  and  bright,  peace- 
ful and  luxurious.  His  first  experience  is  of  famine. 
He  has  to  look  on  his  herd  mjclting  awa}^,  his  favourite 
cattle  losing  their  appearance,  his  sei-\^ants  murmuring 
and  obliged  to  scatter.  In  his  dreams  he  must  have 
night  after  night  seen  the  old  country,  the  green  breadth 
of  the  land  that  Euphrates  watered,  the  heavy  headed 
corn  bending  before  the  warm  airs  of  his  native  land  ; 

7 


S8  'THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

but  morning  by  morning  he  wakes  to  the  ^am^e  anxieties, 
to  the  sad  reality  of  parched  and  burnt-up  pastures, 
shepherds  hanging  about  with  glocmy  looks,  his  own 
heart  distressed  and  failing.  He  was  also  a  stranger 
here  who  could  not  look  for  the  help  an  old  resident 
m.ight  have  counted  on.  It  was  probably  years  since 
God  had  made  any  sign  to  him.  Was  the  promiiscd 
land  worth  having  after  all  ?  Might  he  not  be  better 
off  among  his  old  friends  in  Charran  ?  Should  he  net 
brave  their  ridicule  and  return  ?  He  will  not  so  much 
as  make  it  possible  to  return.  He  will  not  even  for 
temporary  relief  go  north  towards  his  old  country,  but 
will  go  to  Egypt,  where  he  cannot  stay,  and  from  which 
he  must  return  to  Canaan. 

Here,  then,  is  a  man  who  plainly  believes  that  God's 
promise  cannot  fail ;  that  God  will  magnify  His  promise, 
and  that  it  above  all  else  is  worth  waiting  for.  He 
believes  that  the  man  who  seeks  without  flinching  and 
through  all  disappointment  and  bareness  to  do  God's 
will,  shall  one  day  have  an  abundantly  satisfying  reward, 
and  that  meanwhile  association  with  God  in  carrying 
forward  His  abiding  purposes  with  men  is  more  for  a 
man  to  live  upon  than  the  cattle  upon  a  thousand  hills. 
And  thus  famine  rendered  to  Abram  no  small  service  if 
it  quickened  within  him  the  consciousness  that  the  call 
of  God  was  not  to  ease  and  prosperity,  to  land-owning 
and  cattle-breeding,  but  to  be  God's  agent  on  earth  for 
the  fulfilment  of  remote  but  magnificent  purposes.  His 
life  m-ight  seem  to  be  down  among  the  commonplace 
vicissitudes,  pasture  might  fail,  and  his  well-stocked 
camp  melt  away,  but  out  of  his  m.ind  there  could  not 
fade  the  future  God  had  revealed  to  him.  If  it  had  been 
his  ambition  to  give  his  name  to  a  tribe  and  be  known 
as  a  wide-ruling  chief,  that  amibition  is  now  eclipsed  by 


Gen.  xii.  6-20.]  ABRAM  IN  EGYPT.  99 

his  desire  to  be  a  step  towards  the  fuliilment  of  that  real 
end  for  which  the  whole  world  is.  The  belief  that  God 
has  called  him  to  do  His  work  has  lifted  him  above 
concern  about  personal  matters  ;  life  has  taken  a  new 
meaning  in  his  eyes  by  its  connection  with  the  Eternal. 

The  extraordinary  country  to  which  Abram  betook 
himself,  and  which  was  destined  to  exercise  so  profound 
an  influence  on  his  descendants,  had  even  at  this  early 
date  attained  a  high  degree  of  civilisation.  The  origin 
of  this  civilisation  is  shrouded  in  obscurity,  as  the 
source  of  the  great  river  to  which  the  country  owes  its 
prosperity  for  many  centuries  kept  the  secret  of  its 
birth.  As  yet  scholars  are  unable  to  tell  us  with 
certainty  what  Pharaoh  was  on  the  throne  when  Abram 
went  down  into  Egypt.  The  monuments  have  pre- 
served the  effigies  of  two  distinct  types  of  rulers ;  the 
one  simple,  kindly,  sensible,  stately,  handsome,  fearless, 
as  of  men  long  accustomed  to  the  throne.  These  are 
the  faces  of  the  native  Egyptian  rulers.  The  other 
type  of  face  is  heavy  and  massive,  proud  and  strong  but 
full  of  care,  with  neither  the  handsome  features  nor 
the  look  of  kindliness  and  culture  which  belong  to  the 
other.  These  are  the  faces  of  the  famous  Shepherd 
kings  who  held  Egypt  in  subjection,  probably  at  the 
very  time  when  Abram  was  in  the  land. 

For  our  purposes  it  matters  little  whether  Abram's 
visit  occurred  while  the  country  was  under  native  or 
under  foreign  rule,  for  long  before  the  Shepherd  kings 
entered  Egypt  it  enjoyed  a  complete  and  stable  civilisa- 
tion. Whatever  dynasty  Abram  found  on  the  throne, 
he  certainl}'^  found  among  the  people  a  more  refined 
social  life  than  he  had  seen  in  his  native  cit}^,  a  much 
purer  religion,  and  a  much  more  highly  developed  moral 
code.     He  must  have  kept  himself  entirely  aloof  from 


IHE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


Egyptian  society  if  he  failed  to  discover  that  they 
behaved  in  a  judgment  after  death,  and  that  this  judg- 
ment proceeded  upon  a  severe  moral  code.  Before 
admission  into  the  Egyptian  heaven  the  deceased  m.ust 
swear  that  "  he  has  not  stolen  nor  slain  any  one  inten- 
tionally ;  that  he  has  not  allowed  his  devotions  to  be 
seen ;  that  he  has  not  been  guilty  of  hypocrisy  or 
l3ang ;  that  he  has  not  calumniated  any  one  nor  fallen 
into  drunkenness  or  adultery;  that  he  has  not  turned 
away  his  ear  from  the  words  of  truth  ;  that  he  has  been 
no  idle  talker ;  that  he  has  not  slighted  the  king  or  his 
father."  To  a  man  in  Abram's  state  of  mind  the 
Egyptian  creed  and  customs  must  have  conveyed  many 
valuable  suggestions. 

But  virtuous  as  in  many  respects  the  Egyptians  were, 
Abram's  fears  as  he  approached  their  country  v/ere  by 
no  means  groundless.  The  event  proved  that  whatever 
Sarah's  age  and  appearance  at  this  time  were,  his  fears 
were  something  more  than  the  fruit  of  a  husband's 
partiality.  Possibly  he  may  have  heard  the  ugly  story 
which  has  recentl}'  been  deciphered  from  an  old  papyrus, 
and  which  tells  how  one  of  the  Pharaohs,  acting  on 
the  advice  of  his  princes,  sent  armed  men  to  fetch  a 
beautiful  woman  and  make  away  with  her  husband. 
But  knowing  the  risk  he  ran,  why  did  he  go  ?  He 
contemplated  the  possibility  of  Sarah's  being  taken 
from  him  ;  but,  if  this  should  happen,  what  became  of 
the  promised  seed  ?  We  cannot  suppose  that,  driven 
by  famine  from  the  promised  land,  he  had  lost  all  hope 
regarding  the  fulfilment  of  the  other  part  of  the  promise. 
Probably  his  idea  was  that  some  of  the  great  men 
might  take  a  fancy  to  Sarah,  and  that  he  would  so 
temporise  with  them  and  ask  for  htr  such  large  gifts 
as    would  hold    them    off  for  a  while   until    he    could 


Gen.  xii.  6-20.]  ABRAM  IN  EGYPT.  loi 

provide  for  his  people  and  get  clear  out  of  the  land.  It 
had  not  occurred  to  him  that  she  might  be  taken  to  the 
palace.  Whatever  his  idea  of  the  probable  course  of 
events  was,  his  proposal  to  guide  them  by  disguising 
his  true  relationship  to  Sarah  was  unjustifiable.  And 
his  feelings  during  these  weeks  in  Egypt  must  have 
been  far  from  enviable  as  he  learned  that  of  all  virtues 
the  Egyptians  set  greatest  store  by  truth,  and  that 
lying  was  the  vice  they  held  in  greatest  abhorrence. 

Here  then  was  the  whole  promise  and  purpose  of 
God  in  a  most  precarious  position ;  the  land  abandoned, 
the  mother  of  the  promised  seed  in  a  harem  through 
whose  guards  no  force  on  earth  could  penetrate.  Abram 
could  do  nothing  but  go  helplessly  about,  thinking  what 
a  fool  he  had  been,  and  wishing  himself  well  back  among 
the  parched  hills  of  Bethel.  Suddenly  there  is  a  panic 
in  the  royal  household;  and  Pharaoh  is  made  aware  that 
he  was  on  the  brink  of  Vv^hat  he  himself  considered  a 
great  sin.  Besides  effecting  its  immediate  purpose,  this 
visitation  might  have  taught  Pharaoh  that  a  man  cannot 
safely  sin  Vv'ithin  limits  prescribed  by  himself.  He  had 
not  intended  such  evil  as  he  found  himself  just  saved 
from  committing.  But  had  he  lived  with  perfect  purity, 
this  liability  to  fall  into  transgression,  shocking  to  him- 
self, could  not  have  existed.  Many  sins  of  most  painful 
consequence  we  commit,  not  of  deliberate  purpose,  but 
because  our  previous  life  has  been  careless  and  lacking 
in  moral  tone.  We  are  mistaken  if  we  suppose  that 
we  can  sin  within  a  certain  safe  circle  and  never  go 
beyond  it. 

By  this  intervention  on  God's  part  Abram  was 
saved  from  the  consequences  of  his  own  scheme,  but  he 
was  not  saved  from  the  indignant  rebuke  of  the  Egyptian 
monarch.     This    rebuke    indeed  did    not    prevent    him 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


from  a  repetition  of  the  same  conduct  in  another  country, 
conduct  which  was  met  with  similar  indignation:  "What 
have  I  offended  thee,  that  thou  hast  brought  on  me  and 
on  my  kingdom  this  great  sin  ?  Thou  hast  done  deeds 
unto  me  that  ought  not  to  be  done.  What  sawest  thou 
that  thou  hast  done  this  thing  ?  "  This  rebuke  did  not 
seem  to  sink  deeply  into  the  conscience  of  Abram's 
descendants,  for  the  Jewish  history  is  full  of  instances 
in  which  leading  men  do  not  shrink  from  manoeuvre, 
deceit  and  lying.  Yet  it  is  impossible  to  suppose  that 
Abram's  conception  of  God  was  not  vastly  enlarged  by 
this  incident,  and  this  especially  in  two  particulars. 

(i)  Abram  must  have  received  a  new  impression 
regarding  God's  truth.  It  would  seem  that  as  yet  he 
had  no  very  clear  idea  of  God's  holiness.  He  had  the 
idea  of  God  which  Mohammedans  entertain,  and  past 
which  they  seem  unable  to  get.  He  conceived  of  God 
as  the  Supreme  Ruler ;  he  had  a  firm  belief  in  the  unity 
of  God  and  probably  a  hatred  of  idolatry  and  a  profound 
contempt  for  idolaters.  He  believed  that  this  Supreme 
God  could  always  and  easily  accomplish  His  will,  and 
that  the  voice  that  inwardly  guided  him  was  the  voice 
of  God.  His  own  character  had  not  yet  been  deepened 
and  dignified  by  prolonged  intercourse  with  God  and  by 
close  observation  of  His  actual  ways  ;  and  so  as  yet  he 
knows  Httle  of  what  constitutes  the  true  glory  of  God. 

For  learning  that  truth  is  an  essential  attribute  of 
God  he  could  not  have  gone  to  a  better  school  than 
Egypt.  His  own  reliance  on  God's  promise  might  have 
been  expected  to  produce  in  him  a  high  esteem  for  truth 
and  a  clear  recognition  of  its  essential  place  in  the 
Divine  character.  Apparently  it  had  only  partially  had 
this  effect.  The  heathen,  therefore,  m.ust  teach  him 
Had  not  Abram  seen  the  look  of  indignation  and  injury 


Gen.  xii.  6-20.]  ABRAM  IN  EG\PT.  103 

on  the  face  of  Pharaoh,  he  might  have  left  the  land 
feeling  that  his  scheme  had  succeeded  admirably.  But 
as  he  went  at  the  head  of  his  vastly  increased  house- 
hold, the  envy  of  many  who  saw  his  long  train  of  camels 
and  cattle,  he  would  have  given  up  all  could  he  have 
blotted  from  his  mind's  eye  the  reproachful  face  of 
Pharaoh  and  nipped  out  this  entire  episode  from  his 
hfe.  He  was  humbled  both  by  his  falseness  and  his 
foolishness.  He  had  told  a  lie,  and  told  it  when  truth 
would  have  served  him  better.  For  the  very  precaution 
he  took  in  passing  off  Sarai  as  his  sister  was  precisely 
what  encouraged  Pharaoh  to  take  her,  and  produced  the 
whole  misadventure.  It  was  the  heathen  monarch  who 
taught  the  father  of  the  faithful  his  first  lesson  in  God's 
holiness. 

What  he  so  painfully  learned  we  must  all  learn,  that 
God  does  not  need  lying  for  the  attainment  of  His  ends, 
and  that  double-dealing  is  always  short-sighted  and  the 
proper  precursor  of  shame.  Frequently  men  are  tempted 
like  Abram  to  seek  a  God-protected  and  God-prospered 
life  by  conduct  that  is  not  thoroughly  straightforward. 
Some  of  us  who  statedly  ask  God  to  bless  our  endea- 
vours, and  who  have  no  doubt  that  God  approves  the 
ends  we  seek  to  accomplish,  do  yet  adopt  such  means 
of  attaining  our  ends  as  not  even  men  with  any  high 
sense  of  honour  would  countenance.  To  save  ourselves 
from  trouble,  inconvenience,  or  danger,  we  are  tempted 
to  evasions  and  shifts  which  are  not  free  from  guilt. 
The  more  one  sees  of  life,  the  higher  value  does  he  set 
on  truth.  Let  lying  be  called  by  whatever  flattering 
title  men  please — let  it  pass  for  diplomacy,  smartness, 
self-defence,  policy,  or  civility — it  remains  the  device  of 
the  coward,  the  absolute  bar  to  free  and  healthy  inter- 
course, a  vice  which  diffuses  itself  through  the  whole 


I04  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

character  and  makes  growth  impossible.  Trade  and 
commerce  are  always  hampered  and  retarded,  and  often 
overwhelmed  in  disaster,  by  the  determined  and  de- 
liberate doubleness  of  those  who  engage  in  tliem  ; 
charity  is  minimised  and  withheld  from  its  proper 
objects  by  the  suspiciousness  engendered  in  us  b}^  the 
almost  universal  falseness  of  men  ;  and  the  habit  of 
making  things  seem  to  others  v/hat  they  are  not,  reacts 
upon  the  man  himself  and  makes  it  difficult  for  him 
to  feel  the  abiding  effective  reality  of  anything  he  has 
to  do  with  or  even  of  his  own  soul.  If  then  we  are  to 
know  the  living  and  true  God  we  must  ourselves  be 
true,  transparent,  and  living  in  the  light  as  He  is  the 
Light.  If  we  are  to  reach  His  ends  we  must  adopt  His 
means  and  abjure  all  crafty  contrivances  of  our  own. 
If  we  are  to  be  His  heirs  and  partners  in  the  work  of 
the  world,  v^^e  must  first  be  His  children,  and  show  that 
we  have  attained  our  majority  by  m.anifesting  an  in- 
dubitable resemblance  to  His  own  clear  truth. 

(2)  But  whether  Abram  fully  learned  this  lesson  or 
not,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  at  this  time  he  did 
receive  fresh  and  abiding  impressions  of  God's  faith- 
fulness and  sufficiency.  In  Abram's  first  response  to 
God's  call  he  exhibited  a  remarkable  independence  and 
strength  of  character.  His  abandonment  of  home  and 
kindred  on  account  of  a  religious  faith  which  he  alone 
possessed,  was  the  act  of  a  man  who  relied  much  more 
on  himself  than  on  others  and  who  had  the  courage  of 
his  convictions.  This  qualification  for  playing  a  great 
part  in  human  affairs  he  undoubtedly  had.  But  he  had 
also  the  defects  of  his  qualities.  A  weaker  man  would 
have  shrunk  from  going  into  Egypt  and  would  have 
preferred  to  see  his  flocks  dwindle  rather  than  take  so 
venturesome  a  step.     No  such  hesitations  could  trammel 


Gen.  xii.  6-20.]  ABRAM  IN  EGYPT.  105 

Abram's  movements.  He  felt  himself  equal  to  all 
occasions.  That  part  of  his  character  which  was  re- 
produced in  his  grandson  Jacob,  a  readiness  to  rise 
to  every  emergency  that  called  for  management  and 
diplomacy,  an  aptitude  for  dealing  with  men  and  using 
them  for  his  purposes — this  came  to  the  front  now  ! 
To  all  the  timorous  suggestions  of  his  household  he 
had  one  reply  :  Leave  it  all  to  me ;  I  will  bring  you 
through.  So  he  entered  Egypt  confident  that  single- 
handed  he  could  cope  with  their  Pharaohs,  priests, 
magicians,  guards,  judges,  warriors ;  and  find  his  way 
through  the  finely-meshed  net  that  held  and  examined 
every  person  and  action  in  the  land. 

He  left  Egypt  in  a  much  more  healthy  state  of  mind, 
practically  convinced  of  his  own  inability  to  work  his 
way  to  the  happiness  God  had  promised  him,  and 
equally  convinced  of  God's  faithfulness  and  power  to 
bring  him  through  all  the  embarrassments  and  disasters 
into  which  his  own  folly  and  sin  might  bring  him.  His 
own  confidence  and  management  had  placed  God's 
promise  in  a  position  of  extreme  hazard ;  and  without 
the  intervention  of  God  Abram  saw  that  he  could 
neither  recover  the  mother  of  the  promised  seed  nor 
return  to  the  land  of  promise.  Abram  is  put  to  shame 
even  in  the  eyes  of  his  household  slaves ;  and  with 
what  burning  shame  must  he  have  stood  before  Sarai 
and  Pharaoh,  and  received  back  his  wife  from  him 
whose  wickedness  he  had  feared,  but  who  so  far  from 
meaning  to  sin  as  Abram  suspected,  was  indignant  that 
Abram  should  have  made  it  even  possible.  He  re- 
turned to  Canaan  humbled  and  very  little  disposed  to 
feel  confident  in  his  own  powers  of  managing  in  emer- 
gencies ;  but  quite  assured  that  God  might  at  all  times 
be  relied  on.     He  was    convinced  that    God  was    not 


io6  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

depending  upon  him,  but  he  upon  God.  He  saw  that 
God  did  not  trust  to  his  cleverness  and  craft,  no,  nor 
even  to  his  wilHngness  to  do  and  endure  God's  will, 
but  that  He  was  trusting  in  Himself,  and  that  by  His 
faithfulness  to  His  own  promise,  by  His  watchfulness 
and  providence,  He  would  bring  Abram  through  all  the 
entanglements  caused  by  his  own  poor  ideas  of  the 
best  way  to  work  out  God's  ends  and  attain  to  His 
blessing.  He  saw,  in  a  word,  that  the  future  of  the 
world  lay  not  with  Abram  but  with  God. 

This  certainly  was  a  great  and  needful  step  in  the 
knowledge  of  God.  Thus  early  and  thus  unmistakably 
was  man  taught  in  how  profound  and  comprehensive  a 
sense  God  is  his  Saviour.  Commonly  it  takes  a  man 
a  long  time  to  learn  that  it  is  God  who  is  saving  him, 
but  one  day  he  learns  it.  He  learns  that  it  is  not  his 
own  faith  but  God's  faithfulness  that  saves  him.  He 
perceives  that  he  needs  God  throughout,  from  first  to 
last ;  not  only  to  make  him  offers,  but  to  enable  him  to 
accept  them ;  not  only  to  incline  him  to  accept  them 
to-day,  but  to  maintain  within  him  at  all  times  this 
same  inclination.  He  learns  that  God  not  only  makes 
him  a  promise  and  leaves  him  to  find  his  own  way  to 
what  is  promised ;  but  that  He  is  with  him  always, 
disentangling  him  day  by  day  from  the  results  of  his 
own  folly  and  securing  for  him  not  only  possible  but 
actual  blessedness. 

Few  discoveries  are  so  welcome  and  gladdening  to 
the  soul.  Few  give  us  the  same  sense  of  God's  near- 
ness and  sovereignty ;  few  make  us  feel  so  deeply  the 
dignity  and  importance  of  our  own  salvation  and 
career.  This  is  God's  affair;  a  matter  in  which  are 
involved  not  merely  our  personal  interests,  but  God's 
responsibility  and  purposes.     God  calls  us  to  be  His, 


Gen.  xii.  6-20.]  ABRAM  IN  EGYPT.  107 

and  He  does  not  send  us  a-warring  on  our  own  charges, 
but  throughout  furnishes  us  with  evoything  we  need. 
When  we  go  down  to  Egypt,  when  we  quite  diverge 
from  the  path  that  leads  to  tlie  promised  land  and 
worldly  straits  tempt  us  to  turn  our  back  upon  God's 
altar  and  seek  relief  by  our  own  arrangements  and 
devices,  when  we  forget  for  a  while  how  God  has 
identified  our  interests  with  His  own  and  tacitly  abjure 
the  vows  we  have  silently  registered  before  Him,  even 
then  He  follows  us  and  watches  over  us  and  lays  His 
hand  upon  us  and  bids  us  back.  And  this  only  is  our 
hope.  Not  in  any  determination  of  our  own  to  cleave 
to  Him  and  to  live  in  faith  en  His  promise  can  we 
trust.  If  we  have  this  determination,  let  us  cherish 
it,  for  this  is  God's  present  means  of  leading  us  on- 
wards. But  should  this  determination  fail,  the  shame 
with  which  you  recognise  your  want  of  steadfastness 
may  prove  a  stronger  bond  to  hold  you  to  Him  than 
the  bold  confidence  with  which  to-day  you  view  the 
future.  The  waywardness,  the  foolishness,  the  obsti- 
nate depravity  that  cause  you  to  despair,  God  will 
conquer.  With  untiring  patience,  with  all-foreseeing 
love.  He  stands  by  you  and  will  bring  you  through. 
His  gifts  and  calling  are  without  repentance. 


IX. 

LOrS   SEPARATION  FROM   aBRAM. 
Genesis  xiii. 

ABRAM  left  Egypt  thinking  meanly  of  himself, 
highly  of  God.  This  humble  frame  of  mind  is 
disclosed  in  the  route  he  chooses ;  he  went  straight 
back  "  unto  the  place  where  his  tent  had  been  at  the 
beginning,  vmto  the  altar  which  he  had  made  there  at 
the  first."  With  a  childlike  simplicity  he  seems  to  own 
that  his  visit  to  Egypt  had  been  a  mistake.  He  had 
gone  there  supposing  that  he  was  thrown  upon  his 
own  resources,  and  that  in  order  to  keep  himself  and 
his  dependants  alive  he  must  have  recourse  to  craft 
and  dishonesty.  By  retracing  his  steps  a!ld  returning 
to  the  altar  at  Bethel,  he  seems  to  acknowledge  that  he 
should  have  remained  there  through  th^  famine  in 
dependence  on  God. 

Whoever  has  attempted  a  similar  practical  repen- 
tance, visible  to  his  own  household  and  affecting  their 
plac^  of  abode  or  daily  occupations,  will  know  how  to 
estimate  the  candour  and  courage  of  Abram.  To  own 
that  some  distinctly  marked  portion  of  our  life,  upon 
v/hich  we  entered  with  great  confidence  in  our  own 
wisdom  and  capacity,  has  come  to  nothing  and  has 
bctra3'ed  us  into  reprehensible  conduct,  is  mortifying 
indeed.     To  admit  that  we  have  erred  and   to  repair 


Gen.xiii.]      LOTS  SEPARATION  FROM  ABRAM.  109 

our  error  by  returning  to  our  old  way  and  practice,  is 
what  few  of  us  have  the  courage  to  do.  If  we  have 
entered  on  some  branch  of  business  or  gone  into  some 
attractive  speculation,  or  if  we  have  altered  our  demean- 
our towards  some  friend,  and  if  we  are  finding  that  we 
are  thereby  tempted  to  doubleness,  to  equivocation,  to 
injustice,  our  only  hope  lies  in  a  candid  and  straight- 
forward repentance,  in  a  manly  and  open  return  to  the 
state  of  things  that  existed  in  happier  days  and  which 
we  should  never  have  abandoned.  Sometimes  we  are 
aware  that  a  blight  began  to  fall  on  our  spiritual  life 
from  a  particular  date,  and  we  can  easily  and  distinctly 
trace  an  unhealth}^  habit  of  spirit  to  a  well-marked 
passage  in  our  outward  career ;  but  we  shrink  from 
the  sacrifice  and  shame  involved  in  a  thoroughgoing 
restoration  of  the  old  state  of  things.  We  are  always 
so  ready  to  fancy  we  have  done  enough,  if  we  get 
one  heartfelt  word  of  confession  uttered;  so  ready,  if 
we  merely  turn  our  faces  towards  God,  to  think  our 
restoration  complete.  Let  us  make  a  point  of  getting 
through  mere  beginnings  of  repentance,  mere  intention 
to  recover  God's  favour  and  a  sound  condition  of  life, 
and  let  us  return  and  return  till  we  bow  at  God's  very 
altar  again,  and  know  that  His  hand  is  laid  upon  us 
in  blessing  as  at  the  first. 

Out  of  Egypt  Abram  brought  vastly  increased  wealth. 
Each  time  he  encamped,  quite  a  town  of  black  tents 
quickly  rose  round  the  spot  where  his  fixed  spear  gave 
the  signal  for  halting.  And  along  with  him  there 
journeyed  his  nephew,  apparently  of  almost  equal,  or 
at  least  considerable  wealth  ;  not  dependent  on  Abram, 
nor  even  a  partner  with  him,  for  "  Lot  also  had  flocks 
and  herds  and  tents."  So  rapidly  was  their  substance 
increasing  that  no  sooner  did  they  become  stationary 


no  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

than  they  found  that  the  land  was  not  able  to  furnish 
them  with  sufficient  pasture.  The  Canaanite  and  the 
Perizzite  would  not  allow  them  unlimited  pasture  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Bethel ;  and  as  the  inevitable 
result  of  this  the  rival  shepherds,  eager  to  secure  the 
best  pasture  for  their  own  flocks  and  the  best  wells 
for  their  own  cattle  and  camels,  came  to  high  words 
and  probably  to  blows  about  their  respective  rights. 

To  both  Abram  and  Lot  it  must  have  occurred  that 
this  competition  between  relatives  was  unseemly,  and 
that  some  arrangement  must  be  come  to.  And  when 
at  last  some  unusually  blunt  quarrel  took  place  in 
presence  of  the  chiefs,  Abram  divulges  to  Lot  the 
scheme  which  had  suggested  itself  to  him.  This  state 
of  things,  he  says,  must  come  to  an  end ;  it  is  un- 
seemly, unwise,  and  unrighteous.  And  as  they  walk  on 
out  of  the  circle  of  tents  to  discuss  the  matter  without 
interruption,  they  come  to  a  rising  ground  where  the 
wide  prospect  brings  them  naturally  to  a  pause.  Abram 
looking  north  and  south  and  seeing  with  the  trained 
eye  of  a  large  flock-master  that  there  was  abundant 
pasture  for  both,  turns  to  Lot  with  a  final  proposal  : 
"  Is  not  the  whole  land  before  thee  ?  Separate  thyself, 
I  pray  thee,  from  me  :  if  thou  wilt  take  the  left  hand, 
then  I  will  go  to  the  right ;  or  if  thou  depart  to  the 
right  hand,  then  I  will  go  to  the  left." 

Thus  early  did  wealth  produce  quarrelling  among 
relatives.  The  men  who  had  shared  one  another's 
fortunes  while  comparatively  poor,  no  sooner  become 
wealthy  than  they  have  to  separate.  Abram  prevented 
quarrel  by  separation.  "Let  us,"  he  sa3's,  "come  to 
an  understanding.  And  rather  than  be  separate  in 
heart,  let  us  be  separate  in  habitation."  It  is  always 
a  sorrowful  time   in  family  history  when   it  comes  to 


Gen.xiii.]      LOT'S  SEPARATION  FROM  ABRAM,  m 

this,  that  those  who  have  had  a  common  purse  and  have 
not  been  careful  to  know  what  exactly  is  theirs  and 
what  belongs  to  the  other  members  of  the  family,  have 
at  last  to  make  a  division  and  to  be  as  precise  and 
documentary  as  if  dealing  with  strangers.  It  is  always 
painful  to  be  compelled  to  own  that  law  can  be  more 
trusted  than  love,  and  that  legal  forms  are  a  surer 
barrier  against  quarrelling  than  brotherly  kindness. 
It  is  a  confession  we  are  sometimes  compelled  to  make, 
but  never  without  a  mixture  of  regret  and  shame. 

As  yet  the  character  of  Lot  has  not  been  exhibited, 
and  we  can  only  calculate  from  the  relation  he  bears  to 
Abram  what  his  answer  to  the  proposal  will  probably 
be.  We  know  that  Abram  has  been  the  making  of  his 
nephew,  and  that  the  land  belongs  to  Abram ;  and  we 
should  expect  that  in  common  decency  Lot  would  set 
aside  the  generous  offer  of  his  uncle  and  demand  that 
he  only  should  determine  the  matter.  "  It  is  not  for 
me  to  make  choice  in  a  land  which  is  wholly  yours. 
My  future  does  not  carry  in  it  the  import  of  yours.  It 
is  a  small  matter  what  kind  of  subsistence  I  secure  or 
where  I  find  it.  Choose  for  yourself,  and  allot  to  me 
what  is  right."  We  see  here  what  a  safeguard  of 
happiness  in  life  right  feeling  is.  To  be  in  right  and 
pleasant  relations  with  the  persons  around  us  will  save 
us  from  error  and  sin  even  when  conscience  and  judg- 
ment give  no  certain  decision.  The  heart  which  feels 
gratitude  is  beyond  the  need  of  being  schooled  and 
compelled  to  do  justly.  To  the  man  who  is  affection- 
ately disposed  it  is  superfluous  to  insist  upon  the  rights 
of  other  persons.  The  instinct  which  tells  a  man  what 
is  due  to  others  and  makes  him  sensitive  to  their 
wrongs  will  preserve  him  from  many  an  ignominious 
action  which  would  degrade  his  whole  life.     But  such 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


instinct  was  awantiiig  in  Lot.  His  character  though  in 
some  respects  admirable  had  none  of  the  generosity  of 
Abram's  in  it.  He  had  allowed  himself  on  countless 
previous  occasions  to  take  advantage  of  Abram's  unsel- 
fishness. Generosity  is  not  always  infectious ;  often  it 
encourages  selfishness  in  child,  relative,  or  neighbour. 
And  so  Lot  instead  of  rivalling,  traded  on  his  uncle's 
magnanimity;  and  chose  him  all  the  plains  of  Jordan 
because  in  his  eye  it  was  the  richest  part  of  the  land. 

This  choice  of  Sodom  as  a  dwelling-place  was  the 
great  mistake  of  Lot's  life.  He  is  the  type  of  that  very 
large  class  of  men  who  have  but  one  rule  for  determin- 
ing them  at  the  turning  points  of  life.     He  was  swayed 

[solely  by  the  consideration  of  worldly  advantage.     He 
has  nothing  deep,  nothing  high  in  him.     He  recognises 

Ino  duty  to  Abram,  no  gratitude,  no  modesty;  he  has 
no  perception  of  spiritual  relations,  no  sense  that  God 

[should  have  something  to  say  in  the  partition  of  the 

hand.  Lot  may  be  acquitted  of  a  good  deal  which  at 
'first  sight  one  is  prompted  to  lay  to  his  charge,  but  he 
cannot  be  acquitted  of  showing  an  eagerness  to  better 
himself,  regardless  of  all  considerations  but  the  promise 
of  wealth  afforded  by  the  fertility  of  the  Jordan  valley. 
He  saw  a  quick  though  dangerous  road  to  wealth. 
There  seemed  a  certainty  oi  success  in  his  earthly 
calling,  a  risk  only  of  moral  disaster.  He  shut  his 
eyes  to  the  risk  that  he  might  grasp  the  wealth ;  and 
10  doing,  ruined  both  himself  and  his  family. 
'■^  The  situation  is  one  which  is  ceaselessly  repeated. 
To  men  in  business  or  in  the  cultivation  of  literature  or 
art,  or  in  one  of  the  professions,  there  are  presented 
opportunities  of  attaining  a  better  position  by  cultivat- 
ing the  friendship  or  identifying  oneself  with  the 
practice  of  men  whose  society  is  not  in  itself  desirable. 


Gen.xiii.]      LOTS  SEPARATION  FROM  ABRAM.  113 

Society  is  made  up  of  little  circles,  each  of  which  has 
its  own  monopoly  of  some  social  or  commercial  or 
political  advantage,  and  its  own  characteristic  tone  and 
enjoyments  and  customs.  And  if  a  man  will  not  join 
1  one  of  these  circles  and  accommodate  himself  to  the 
mode  of  carrying  on  business  and  to  the  style  of  living 
it  has  identified  with  itself,  he  must  forego  the  advan- 
tages which  entrance  to  that  circle  would  secure  for 
him.  As  clearly  as  Lot  saw  that  the  well-watered  plain 
stretching  away  under  the  sunshine  was  the  right  place 
to  exercise  his  vocation  as  a  flock-master,  so  do  we 
see  that  associated  with  such  and  such  persons  and 
recognised  as  one  of  them,  we  shall  be  able  more 
effectively  than  in  any  other  position  to  use  whatever 
natural  gifts  we  have,  and  win  the  recognition  and  the 
profit  these  gifts  seem  to  warrant.  There  is  but  one 
drawback.  "The  men  of  Sodom  were  wicked  and 
sinners  before  the  Lord  exceedingly."  There  is  a  tone 
you  do  not  like ;  you  hesitate  to  identify  yourself  with 
men  who  live  solely  and  wiai  cynical  frankness  only 
for  gain ;  whose  every  sentence  betrays  the  con- 
temptible narrowness  of  soul  to  which  worldliness 
condemns  men ;  who  live  for  money  and  who  glory 
in  their  shame. 

The  very  nature  of  the  world  in  which  we  live  makes 
such  temptation  universal.  And  to  yield  is  common 
and  fatal.  We  persuade  ourselves  we  need  not  enter 
into  close  relations  with  the  persons  we  propose  to 
have  business  connections  with.  Lot  would  have  been 
liorrified,  that  day  he  made  his  choice,  had  it  been  told 
him  his  daughters  would  marry  men  of  Sodom.  Eut 
the  swimmer  who  ventures  into  the  outer  circle  of  the 
whirlpool  finds  that  his  own  resolve  net  to  go  further 
presents  a  very  weak  resistance  to  the  water's  inevitable 

8 


114  I^HE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

suction.  We  fancy  perhaps  that*  to  refuse  the  com- 
panionship of  any  class  of  men  is  pharisaic ;  that  we 
have  no  business  to  condemn  the  attitude  towards  the 
Church,  or  the  morahtj",  or  the  style  of  living  adopted 
by  any  class  of  men  arrong  us.  This  is  the  mere  cant 
of  liberalism.  We  do  not  condemn  persons  who  suffer 
from  smallpox,  but  a  smallpox  hospital  would  be  about 
the  last  place  we  should  choose  for  a  residence.  Or 
possibly  we  imagine  we  shall  be  able  to  carry  some 
better  influences  into  the  society  we  enter.  A  vain 
imagination ;  the  motive  for  choosing  the  society  has 
already  sapped  our  power  for  good. 

Many  of  the  errors  of  worldly  men  only  reveal  their 
most  disastrous  consequences  in  the  second  generation. 
Like  some  virulent  di.-eases  they  have  a  period  of 
j  incubation.  Lot's  family  grew  up  in  a  very  different 
[atmosphere  from  that  which  had  nourished  his  own 
I  youth  in  Abram's  tents.  An  adult  and  robust  English- 
man can  withstand  the  climate  of  India ;  but  his 
children  who  are  born  in  it  cannot.  And  the  position 
in  society  which  has  be  n  gained  in  middle  life  by  the 
carefully  and  hardily  trained  child  of  a  God-fearing 
household,  may  not  very  visibly  damage  his  own 
character,  but  may  yet  be  absolutely  fatal  to  the 
moralit}'  of  his  children.  Lot  may  have  persuaded 
himself  he  chose  the  dangerous  prosperity  of  Sodom 
mainly  for  the  sake  of  his  children ;  but  in  point  of 
fact  he  had  better  have  seen  them  die  of  starvation 
in  the  most  barren  and  parched  desolation.  And  the 
parent  who  disregards  conscience  and  chooses  wealth 
or  position,  fancying  that  thus  he  benefits  his  children, 
will  find  to  his  life-long  sorrow  that  he  has  entangled 
them  in  unimagined  temptations. 

But  the  man  who  makes  Lot's  choice  not  only  does 


Gen.xiii.]      LOTS  SEPARATION  FROM  A B RAM.  115 

a  great  injury  to  his  children,  but  cuts  himself  off 
from  all  that  is  best  in  life.  We  are  safe  to  say  that 
after  leaving  Abram's  tents  Lot  never  again  enjoyed 
unconstrainedly  happy  days.  The  men  born  and 
brought  up  in  Sodom  were  possibly  happy  after  their 
kind  and  in  their  fashion ;  but  Lot  was  not.  His  soul 
was  daily  vexed.  Many  a  time  while  hearing  the 
talk  of  the  men  his  daughters  had  married,  must  Lot 
have  gone  out  with  a  sore  heart,  and  looked  to  the 
distant  hills  that  hid  the  tents  of  Abram,  and  longed 
for  an  hour  of  the  company  he  used  to  enjoy. 
And  the  society  to  which  you  are  tempted  to  join 
yourself  may  not  be  unhappy,  but  you  can  take  no 
surer  means  of  beclouding,  embittering,  and  ruining 
your  whole  life  than  by  joining  it.  You  cannot  forget 
the  thoughts  you  once  had,  the  friendships  you  once 
delighted  in,  the  hopes  that  shed  brightness  through 
all  your  life.  You  cannot  blot  out  the  ideal  that  once 
you  cherished  as  the  most  animating  element  of  your 
life.  Every  day  there  will  be  that  rising  in  your  mind 
which  is  in  the  sharpest  contrast  to  the  thoughts  of 
those  with  whom  you  are  associated.  You  will  despise 
them  for  their  shallow,  worldly  ideas  and  ways ;  but  you 
will  despise  yourself  still  more,  being  conscious  that 
what  they  are  through  ignorance  and  upbringing,  you 
are  in  virtue  of  your  own  foolish  and  mean  choice. 
There  is  that  in  you  which  rebels  against  the  superficial 
and  external  measure  by  which  they  judge  things,  and 
yet  you  have  deliberately  chosen  these  as  your  asso- 
ciates, and  can  only  think  with  heart-broken  regret  of 
the  high  thoughts  that  once  visited  you  and  the  hopes 
you  have  now  no  means  of  fulfilling.  Your  life  is 
taken  out  of  your  own  hands  ;  you  find  yourself  in 
bondage   to  the  circumstances   you  have   chosen ;   and 


ii6  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

you  are  learning  in  bitterness,  disappointment,  and 
shame,  that  indeed  "  a  man's  life  consisteth  not  in  the 
abundance  of  the  things  which  he  possesseth."  To 
determine  your  life  solely  by  the  prospect  of  worldly 
success  is  to  risk  the  loss  of  the  best  things  in  life. 
To  sacrifice  friendship  or  conscience  to  success  in  your 
calling  is  to  sacrifice  what  is  best  to  what  is  lowest,  and 
to  blind  yourself  to  the  highest  human  happiness.  For 
happily  the  essential  elements  of  the  highest  happiness 
are  as  open  to  the  poor  as  to  the  rich,  to  the  unsucces- 
ful  as  to  the  successful — love  of  wife  and  children, 
congenial  and  educating  friendships,  the  knowledge  of 
what  the  best  men  have  done  and  the  wisest  men  have 
said ;  the  .pleasure  and  impulse,  the  sentiments  and 
beliefs  which  result  from  our  knowledge  of  the  heroic 
deeds  done  from  year  to  year  among  men ;  the  enlivening 
influence  of  examples  that  tell  on  all  men  alike,  young 
and  old,  rich  and  poor ;  the  insight  and  strength  of 
character  that  are  won  in  the  hard  wrestle  with  life ; 
the  growing  consciousness  that  God  is  in  human  life, 
that  He  is  ours  and  that  we  are  His — these  things  and 
all  that  makes  human  life  of  value  are  universal  as  air 
and  sunshine,  but  must  be  missed  by  those  who  make 
the  world  their  object. 

Though  in  point  of  fact  Lot  cut  himself  off  by  his 
choice  from  direct  participation  in  the  special  inherit- 
ance to  which  Abram  was  called  by  God,  it  might 
perhaps  be  too  much  to  say  that  his  choice  of  the 
valley  of  Jordan  was  an  explicit  renunciation  of  the 
sperial  blessedness  of  those  who  find  their  joy  in 
responding  to  God's  call  and  doing  His  work  in  the 
Avorld.  It  might  also  be  extravagant  to  say  that  his 
choice  of  the  richest  land  was  prompted  by  the  feeling 
that  he  v/as  not  included  in  the  promise  to  Abram,  and 


Gen.xiii.]      LOT'S  SEPARATION  FROM  ABRAM.  117 

might  as  well  make  the  most  of  his  present  oppor- 
tunities. But  it  is  certain  that  Abram's  generosity  to 
Lot  arose  out  of  his  sense  that  in  God  he  himself  had 
abundant  possession.  In  Egypt  he  had  learned  that 
in  order  to  secure  all  that  is  worth  having  a  man  need 
never  resort  to  duplicity,  trickery,  bold  lying.  He  now 
learns  that  in  order  to  enter  on  his  own  God-provided 
lot,  he  need  shut  no  other  man  out  of  his.  He  is  taught 
that  to  acknowledge  amply  the  rights  of  other  men  is 
the  surest  road  to  the  enjoyment  of  his  own  rights. 
He  is  taught  that  there  is  room  in  God's  plan  for 
every  man  to  follow  his  most  generous  impulses  and 
the  highest  views  of  life  that  visit  him. 

It  was  Abram's  simple  belief  that  God  s  promise  was 
meant  and  was  substantial,  that  made  him  indifferent 
as  to  what  Lot  might  choose.  His  faith  was  judged 
in  this  scene,  and  was  proved  to  be  sound.  This  man 
whose  very  calling  it  was  to  own  this  land,  could  freely 
allow  Lot  to  choose  the  best  of  it.  Why  ?  Because 
he  has  learned  that  it  is  not  by  any  plan  of  his  own 
he  is  to  come  into  possession ;  that  God  Who  promised 
is  to  give  him  the  land  in  His  own  way,  and  that  his 
part  is  to  act  uprightly,  mercifully,  like  God.  Wherever 
there  is  faith,  the  same  results  will  appear.  He  who 
believes  that  God  is  pledged  to  provide  for  him  cannot 
be  greedy,  anxious,  covetous ;  can  only  be  liberal,  even 
magnanimous.  Any  one  can  thus  test  his  own  faith. 
If  he  does  not  find  that  what  God  promises  weighs 
substantially  when  put  in  the  scales  with  gold ;  if  he 
does  not  find  that  the  accomplishment  of  God's  purpose 
with  him  in  the  world  is  to  him  the  most  valuable 
thing,  and  actually  compels  him  to  think  lightly  of 
worldly  position  and  ordinary  success ;  if  he  does  not 
find  that  in  point  of  fact  the  gains  which  content  a  man 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


of  the  world  shrivel  and  lose  interest,  he  may  feel 
tolerably  certain  he  has  no  faith  and  is  not  counting 
as  certain  what  God  has  promised. 

It  is  commonly  observed  that  wealth  pursues  the 
men  who  part  with  it  most  freely.  Abrrm  had  this 
experience.  No  sooner  had  he  allowed  Lot  to  choose 
his  portion  than  God  gave  him  assurance  that  the 
whole  would  be  his.  It  is  "  the  meek  "  who  "  inherit 
the  earth."  Not  only  have  they,  in  their  very  losses 
and  while  suffering  wrong  at  the  hands  of  their  fellows, 
a  purer  joy  than  those  who  wrong  them ;  but  they 
know  themselves  heirs  of  God  with  the  certainty  of 
enjoying  all  His  possessions  that  can  avail  for  their 
advantage.  Declining  to  devote  themselves  as  living 
sacrifices  to  business  they  hold  their  soul  at  leisure  for 
what  brings  truest  happiness,  for  friendship,  for  know- 
ledge, for  charity.  Even  in  this  life  they  may  be  said 
to  inherit  the  earth,  for  all  its  richest  fruits  are  theirs 
— the  ground  may  belong  to  other  men,  but  the  beauty 
of  the  landscape  is  theirs  without  burden — and  ever 
and  anon  they  hear  such  words  as  were  now  uttered 
to  Abram.  They  alone  are  inclined  or  able  to  receive 
renewed  assurances  that  God  is  mindful  of  His  promise 
and  will  abundantly  bless  them.  It  is  they  who  are 
in  no  haste  to  be  rich,  and  are  content  to  abide  in 
the  retired  hill-country  where  they  can  freely  assemble 
round  God's  altar,  it  is  they  who  seek  first  the  king- 
dom of  God  and  make  sure  of  that,  whatever  else  they 
put  in  hazard,  to  whom  God's  encouragements  come. 
You  wonder  at  the  certainty  with  which  others  speak 
of  hearing  God's  voice  and  that  so  seldom  you  have 
the  joy  of  knowing  that  God  is  directing  and  encourag- 
ing you.  Why  should  you  wonder,  if  you  very  well 
know   that   your    attention    is  directed  mainly  to  the 


Gen.  xili.]      LOTS  SEPARATION  FROM  ABRAM.  119 

world,  that  your  heart  trembles  and  thrills  with  all 
the  fluctuations  of  your  earthly  hopes,  that  you  wait 
for  news  and  listen  to  every  hint  that  can  affect  your 
position  in  life  ?  Can  you  wonder  that  an  ear  trained 
to  be  so  sensitive  to  the  near  Earthly  sounds,  should 
quite  have  lost  the  range  of  heavenly  voices  ? 

Of  the  assurance  here  given  him  Abram  was  probabl}'- 
much  in  need  when  Lot  had  withdrawn  with  his  flocks 
and  servants.  When  the  warmth  of  feeling  cooled  and 
allowed  the  somewhat  unpleasant  facts  of  the  case  to 
press  upon  his  mind  ;  and  when  he  heard  his  shepherds 
murmuring  that  after  all  the  strife  they  had  maintained 
for  their  master's  rights,  he  should  have  weakly  yielded 
these  to  Lot ;  and  when  he  reflected,  as  now  he  inevit- 
ably would  reflect,  how  selfish  and  ungrateful  Lot  had 
shown  himself  to  be,  he  must  have  been  tempted  to 
think  he  had  possibly  made  a  mistake  in  dealing  so 
generously  with  such  a  roan.  This  reflection  on  him- 
self might  naturally  grow  into  a  reflection  upon  God, 
Who  might  have  been  expected  so  to  order  matters 
as  to  give  the  best  country  to  the  best  man.  All  such 
reflections  are  precluded  by  the  renewed  grant  he  now 
receives  of  the  whole  land. 

It  is  always  as  difficult  to  govern  our  heart  wisely 
after  as  before  making  a  sacrifice.  It  is  as  difficult 
to  keep  the  will  decided  as  to  make  the  original 
decision ;  and  it  is  more  difficult  to  think  affectionately 
of  those  for  whom  the  sacrifice  has  been  made,  when 
the  change  in  their  condition  and  our  own  is  actually 
accomplished.  There  is  a  natural  reaction  after  a 
generous  action  which  is  not  always  sufficiently 
resisted.  And  when  we  see  that  those  who  refuse 
to  make  any  sacrifices  are  more  prosperous  and  less 
ruffled  in  spirit  than  ourselves  we  are  tempted  to  take 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


matters  into  our  own  hand,  and,  without  waiting  upon 
God,  to  use  the  world's  quick  ways.  At  such  times 
we  find  how  difficult  it  is  to  hold  an  advanced  position, 
and  how  miuch  unbelief  mingles  with  the  sincerest  faith, 
and  what  vile  dregs  of  selfishness  sully  the  clearest 
generosity ;  we  find  our  need  of  God  and  of  those 
encouragem.ents  and  assistaRces  He  can  impart  to  the 
soul.  Happy  are  we  if  we  receive  them  and  are 
enabled  thereby  to  be  constant  in  the  good  we  have 
begun ;  for  all  sacrifice  is  good  begun.  And  as  Abram 
saw,  when  the  cities  of  the  plain  were  destroyed,  how 
kindly  God  had  guided  him  ;  so  when  our  history  is 
complete,  we  shall  have  no  inclination  to  grumble  at 
any  passage  of  our  life  which  we  entered  by  generosity 
and  faith  in  God,  but  shall  see  how  tenderly  God  has 
held  us  back  from  much  that  our  soul  has  been  ardently 
desiring,  and  which  we  thought  would  be  the  making 
of  us. 


X. 

AB RAM'S  RESCUE   OF  LOT. 
Genesis  xiv. 

THIS  chapter  evidently  incorporates  a  contemporary 
account  of  the  events  recorded.  So  antique  a 
document  was  it  even  when  it  found  its  place  in  this 
book,  that  the  editor  had  to  modernize  some  of  its  ex- 
pressions that  it  might  be  intelligible.  The  places 
mentioned  were  no  longer  known  by  the  names  here 
preserved — Bela,  the  vale  of  Siddim,  En-mishpat,  the 
valley  of  Shaveh,  all  these  names  were  unknown  even 
to  the  persons  who  dwelt  in  the  places  once  so  desig- 
nated. It  can  scarcely  have  been  Abram  who  wrote 
down  the  narrative,  for  he  himself  is  spoken  of  as 
Abram  the  Hebrew,  the  man  born  be3^ond  the  Euphrates, 
which  is  a  way  of  speaking  of  himself  no  one  would 
naturally  adopt.  From  the  clear  outline  given  of  the 
route  followed  by  the  expedition  of  Chedorlaomer,  it 
might  be  supposed  that  some  old  staff-secretary  had 
reported  on  the  campaign.  However  that  may  be,  the 
discoveries  of  the  last  two  or  three  years  have  shed 
light  on  the  outlandish  names  that  have  stood  for 
four  thousand  years  in  this  document,  and  on  the 
relations  subsisting  between  Elam  and  Palestine. 

On    the    bricks    now    preserved  in  our  own   British 
Museum  the  very  names  we  read  in  this  chapter  can 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


be  traced,  in  the  slightly  altered  form  which  is  always 
given  to  a  name  when  pronounced  by  different  races. 
Chedorlaomer  is  the  Hebrew  transliteration  of  Kudur 
Lagamar;  Lagamar  was  the  name  of  one  of  the 
Chaldean  deities,  and  the  whole  name  means  Lagamar's 
son,  evidently  a  name  of  dignity  adopted  by  the  king 
of  Elam.  Elam  comprehended  the  broad  and  rich 
plains  to  the  east  of  the  lower  course  of  the  Tigris, 
together  with  the  mountain  range  (8,000  to  10,000  feet 
high)  that  bounds  them.  Elam  was  always  able  to 
maintain  its  own  against  Assyria  and  Babylonia,  and 
at  this  time  it  evidently  exercised  some  kind  of  supre- 
macy not  only  over  these  neighbouring  powers,  but  as 
far  west  as  the  valley  of  the  Jordan.  The  importance 
of  keeping  open  the  valley  of  the  Jordan  is  obvious  to 
every  one  who  has  interest  enough  in  the  subject  to 
look  at  a  map.  That  valley  was  the  main  route  for 
trading  caravans  and  for  military  expeditions  between 
the  Euphrates  and  Egypt,  Whoever  held  that  valley 
might  prove  a  most  formidable  annoyance  and  indeed 
an  absolute  interruption  to  commercial  or  political 
relations  between  Egypt  and  Elam,  or  the  Eastern 
powers.  Sometimes  it  might  serve  the  purpose  of  East 
and  West  to  have  a  neutral  power  between  them,  as  be- 
came afterwards  clear  in  the  history  of  Israel,  but  oftener 
it  was  the  ambition  of  either  Egypt  or  of  the  East  to  hold 
Canaan  in  subjection.  A  rebellion  therefore  of  these 
chiefs  occupying  the  vale  of  Siddim  was  sufficiently 
important  to  bring  the  king  of  Elam  from  his  distant 
capital,  attaching  to  his  army  as  he  came,  his  tributaries 
Amraphel  king  of  Shinar  or  northern  Chaldea,  Arioch 
king  of  a  district  on  the  east  of  the  Euphrates,  and  finally 
Tidal,  or  rather  Tur-gal  i.e.  the  great  chief,  who  ruled 
over  the  nations  or  tribes  to  the  north  of  Babylonia. 


Gen.  xiv.]  ABRAM'S  RESCUE   OF  LOT.  123 

Susa,  the  capital  of  Elam,  lies  almost  on  the  same 
parallel  as  the  vale  of  Siddim,  but  between  them  lie  many 
hundred  miles  of  impracticable  desert.  Chedorlaomer 
and  his  army  followed  therefore  much  the  same  route  as 
Terah  in  his  emigration,  first  going  north-west  up  the 
Euphrates  and  then  crossing  it  probably  at  Carchemish, 
or  above  it,  and  coming  southward  towards  Canaan.  But 
the  country  to  the  east  of  the  Jordan  and  the  Dead  Sea 
was  occupied  by  warlike  and  marauding  tribes  who 
would  have  liked  nothing  better  than  to  swoop  down 
on  a  rich  booty-laden  Eastern  army.  With  the  sagacity 
of  an  old  soldier  therefore,  Chedorlaomer  makes  it  his 
first  business  to  sweep  this  rough  ground,  and  so  cripple 
the  tribes  in  his  passage  southwards,  that  when  he 
swept  round  the  lower  end  of  the  Dead  Sea  and  up  the 
Jordan  valley  he  should  have  nothing  to  fear  at  least 
on  his  right  flank.  The  tribe  that  first  felt  his  sword 
was  that  of  the  Rephaim,  or  giants.  Their  stronghold 
was  Ashteroth  Karnaim,  or  Ashteroth  of  the  two  horns, 
a  town  dedicated  to  the  goddess  Astarte  whose  symbol 
was  the  crescent  or  two-horned  moon.  The  Zuzims 
and  the  Emims,  "  a  people  great  and  many  and  tall,"  as 
we  read  in  Deuteronomy,  next  fell  before  the  invading 
host.  The  Horites,  i.e.  cave-dwellers  or  trogIod3'tes, 
would  scarcely  hold  Chedorlaomer  long,  though  from 
their  hilly  fastnesses  they  might  do  him  some  damage. 
Passing  through  their  mountains  he  came  upon  the 
great  road  between  the  Dead  Sea  and  the  Elanitic  gulf — 
but  he  crossed  this  road  and  still  held  westward  till  he 
reached  the  edge  of  what  is  roughly  known  as  the  Desert 
of  Sinai.  Here,  sa3^s  the  narrative  (ver.  7),  they  returned, 
that  is,  this  was  their  furthest  point  south  and  west, 
and  here  they  turned  and  made  for  the  vale  of  Siddim, 
smiting  the  Amalekites  and  the  Amorites  on  their  route. 


124  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

This  is  the  only  part  of  the  army's  route  that  is  at 
all  obscure.  The  last  place  they  are  spoken  of  as 
touching  before  reaching  the  vale  of  Siddim  is  Hazezon- 
Tamar,  or  as  it  was  afterwards  and  is  still  called 
Engedi.  Now  Engedi  lies  on  the  western  shore  of  the 
Dead  Sea  about  half  way  up  from  south  to  north.  It 
lies  on  a  very  steep,  indeed  artificially  made,  pass  and 
is  a  place  of  much  greater  importance  on  that  account 
than  its  size  would  make  it.  The  road  between  Moab 
and  Palestine  runs  by  the  western  margin  of  the  Dead 
Sea  up  to  this  point,  but  beyond  this  point  the  shore 
is  impracticable,  and  the  only  road  is  through  the 
Engedi  pass  on  to  the  higher  ground  above.  If  the 
army  chose  this  route  then  they  were  compelled  to 
force  this  pass  ;  if  on  the  other  hand  they  preferred 
during  their  whole  march  from  Kadesh  to  keep  away 
west  of  the  Dead  Sea  on  the  higher  ground,  then  they 
would  only  detail  a  company  to  pounce  upon  Engedi, 
as  the  main  army  passed  behind  and  above.  In  either 
case  the  main  body  must  have  been  if  not  actually 
within  sight  of,  yet  only  a  few  miles  from,  the  encamp- 
ment of  Abram. 

At  length  as  they  dropped  down  through  the  practic- 
able passes  into  the  vale  of  Siddim  their  grand  object 
became  apparent,  and  the  kings  of  the  five  aUied  towns, 
probably  warned  by  the  hill-tribes  weeks  before,  drew 
out  to  meet  them.  But  it  is  not  easy  to  check  an 
army  in  full  career,  and  the  wells  of  bitumen,  which 
those  who  knew  the  ground  might  have  turned  to 
good  purpose  against  the  foreigners,  actually  hindered 
the  home  troops  and  became  a  trap  to  them.  The 
rout  was  complete.  No  second  stand  or  rally  was 
attempted.  The  towns  were  sacked,  the  fields  swept, 
and  so  swift  were  the  movements  of  the  invaders   that 


Gen.xiv.]  ABRARPS  RESCUE   OF  LOT.  125 

although  Abram  was  barely  twenty  miles  off,  and  no 
doubt  started  for  the  rescue  of  Lot  the  hour  he  got  the 
news,  he  did  not  overtake  the  army,  laden  as  it  was 
with  spoil  and  retarded  by  prisoners  and  wounded, 
until  they  had  reached  the  sources  of  Jordan. 

But  well-conceived  and  brilliantly  executed  as  this 
campaign  had  been,  the  experienced  warrior  had  failed 
to  take  account  of  the  most  formidable  opponent  he 
would  have  to  reckon  with.  Those  that  escaped  from 
the  slaughter  at  Sodom  took  to  the  hills,  and  either 
knowing  they  would  find  shelter  with  Abram  or  more 
probably  blindly  running  on,  found  themselves  at  night- 
fall within  sight  of  the  encampment  at  Hebron.  There 
is  no  delay  on  Abram's  part ;  he  hastily  calls  out  his 
men,  each  snatching  his  bow,  his  sword,  and  his  spear, 
and  slinging  over  his  shoulders  a  few  days'  provision. 
The  neighbouring  Amorite  chiefs  Aner,  Mamre  and 
Eshcol  join  them,  probably  with  a  troop  each,  and 
before  many  hours  are  logt  they  are  down  the  passes 
and  in  hot  pursuit.  Not  however  till  they  had  tra- 
versed a  hundred  and  twenty  miles  or  more  do  they 
overtake  the  Eastern  army.  But  at  Dan,  at  the  very 
springs  of  the  Jordan,  they  find  them,  and  making  a 
night  attack  throw  them  into  utter  confusion  and  pursue 
them  as  far  as  Hobah,  a  village  near  Damascus,  that 
retains  to  this  day  the  same  name. 

One  is  naturally  curious  to  see  hovv^  Abram  will 
conduct  himself  in  circumstances  so  unaccustomed. 
From  leading  a  quiet  pastoral  life  he  suddenly  becomes 
the  most  important  man  in  the  country,  a  man  who 
can  make  himself  felt  from  the  Nile  to  the  Tigris. 
From  a  herd  he  becomes  a  hero.  But,  notoriously, 
power  tries  a  man,  and,  as  one  has  often  seen  persons 
make  very  glaring   mistakes  in    such    altered  circum- 


125  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

Stances  and  alter  their  characters  and  behefs  to  suit  and 
take  advantage  of  the  new  material  and  opportunities 
presented  to  them,  we  are  interested  in  seeing  how  a 
man  whose  one  rule  of  action  has  hitherto  been  faith  in 
a  promise  given  him  by  God,  will  pass  through  such 
a  trial.  Can  a  spiritual  quality  like  faith  be  of  much 
service  in  rough  campaigning  and  v;hen  the  man  of 
faith  is  mixed  up  with  persons  of  doubtful  character 
and  unscrupulous  conduct,  and  brought  into  contact 
with  considerable  political  powers  ?  Can  we  trace  to 
Abram's  faith  any  part  of  his  action  at  this  time  ?  No 
sooner  is  the  question  put  than  we  see  that  his  faith 
in  God's  promise  was  precisely  that  v/hich  gave  him 
balance  and  dignity,  courage  and  generosity  in  dealing 
with  the  three  prominent  persons  in  the  narrative.  He 
could  afford  to  be  forgiving  and  generous  to  his  grand 
Lot,  precisely  because  he  felt  sure  God 
generously  with  himself.  He  could  afford  to 
.jv;>  .■■w.  .::.re  Melchiscdek  and  any  other  authority  that 
mignt  appear,  as  his  superior,  and  he  would  not  take 
advantage,  even  when  at  the  head  of  his  men  eager  for 
more  fighting,  of  the  peaceful  king  who  came  out  to  pro- 
pitiate him,  because  he  knew  that  God  would  give  him 
his  land  without  wronging  other  people.  And  he  scorned 
the  wages  of  the  king  of  Sodom,  holding  himself  to 
be  no  mercenary  captain,  nor  indebted  to  any  one  but 
God.  In  a  word,  you  see  faith  producing  all  that  is  of 
importance  in  his  conduct  at  this  time. 

Lot  is  the  person  who  of  all  others  might  have  been 
expected  to  be  forward  in  his  expressions  of  gratitude 
to  Abram — not  a  word  of  his  is  recorded.  Ashamed 
he  cannot  but  have  been,  for  if  Abram  said  not  a  word 
of  reproach,  there  would  be  plenty  of  Lot's  old  friends 
among  Abram's  men  who   could  not  lose  so  good  an 


Gen.xiv.]  ABRAM'S  RESCUE   OF  LOT.  127 

opportunity  of  twitting  him  about  the  good  choice  he 
had  made.  And  considering  how  humiliating  it  would 
have  been  for  him  to  go  back  with  Abram  and  abandon 
the  district  of  his  adoption,  we  can  scarcely  wonder 
that  he  should  have  gone  quietly  back  to  Sodom,  well 
as  he  must  by  this  time  have  known  the  nature  of  the 
risks  he  ran  there.  For,  after  all,  this  warning  was 
not  very  loud.  The  same  thing,  or  a  similar  thing, 
might  have  happened  had  he  remained  with  Abram. 
The  warning  was  unobtrusive  as  the  warnings  in  life 
mostly  are  ;  audible  to  the  ear  that  has  been  accustomed 
to  listen  to  the  still  small  voice  of  conscience,  inaudible 
to  the  ear  that  is  trained  to  hear  quite  other  voices. 
God  does  not  set  angels  and  flaming  swords  in  every 
man's  path.  The  little  whisper  that  no  one  hears  but 
ourselves  only  and  that  says  quite  quietly  that  we  are 
continuing  in  a  wrong  course,  is  as  certain  an  indica- 
tion that  we  are  in  danger,  as  if  God  were  to  proclaim 
our  case  from  heaven  with  thunder  or  the  voice  of  an 
archangel.  And  when  a  man  has  persistently  refused 
to  listen  to  conscience  it  ceases  to  speak,  and  he  loses 
the  power  to  discern  between  good  and  evil  and  is  left 
wholly  without  a  guide.  He  may  be  running  straight 
to  destruction  and  he  does  not  know  it.  You  cannot 
live  under  two  principles  of  action,  regard  to  worldly 
interest  and  regard  to  conscience.  You  can  train 
yourself  to  great  acuteness  in  perceiving  and  following 
out  what  is  for  your  worldly  advantage,  or  you  can 
train  yourself  to  great  acuteness  of  conscience ;  but 
you  must  make  your  choice,  for  in  proportion  as  you 
gain  sensitiveness  in  the  one  direction  you  lose  it  in  the 
other.  If  your  eye  is  single  your  whole  body  is  full 
of  light ;  but  if  the  light  that  is  in  thee  be  darkness, 
how  great  is  that  darkness  ! 


128  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

Melchizedek  is  generally  recognised  as  the  most 
mysterious  and  unaccountable  of  historical  personages  ; 
appearing  here  in  the  King's  Vale  no  one  knows  whence, 
and  disappearing  no  one  knows  whither,  but  coming 
with  his  hands  full  of  substantial  gifts  for  the  wearied 
household  of  Abram,  and  the  captive  women  that  were 
with  him.  Of  each  of  the  patriarchs  we  can  tell  the 
paternity  ;  the  date  of  his  birth,  and  the  date  of  his 
death  ;  but  this  man  stands  with  none  to  claim  him,  he 
forms  no  part  of  any  series  of  links  by  which  the  oldest 
and  the  present  times  are  connected.  Though  possessed 
of  the  knowledge  of  the  Most  High  God,  his  name  is 
not  found  in  any  of  those  genealogies  which  show  us 
how  that  knowledge  passed  from  father  to  son.  Of  all 
the  other  great  men  whose  history  is  recorded  a 
careful  genealogy  is  given ;  but  here  the  writer  breaks 
his  rule,  and  breaks  it  where,  had  there  not  been  sub- 
cfcmf-ipi  reason,  he  would  most  certainly  have  adhered 
vo  ii.  .  •  here  is  the  greatest  man  of  the  time,  a  man 
offorp  om  Abram  the  father  of  the  faithful,  the 
iiuauuieu  of  all  nations,  bowed  and  paid  tithes  ;  and 
yet  he  appears  and  passes  away  likest  to  a  vision  of  the 
night.  Perhaps  even  in  his  own  time  there  was  none  that 
could  point  to  the  chamber  where  first  he  was  cradled, 
nor  show  the  tent  round  which  first  he  played  in  his 
boyhood,  nor  hoard  up  a  single  relic  of  the  early  years 
of  the  man  that  had  risen  ro  be  the  first  man  upon 
earth  in  those  days.  So  that  the  Apostle  speaks  of 
him  as  a  very  type  of  all  that  is  mysterious  and  abrupt 
in  appearance  and  disappearance,  "  without  father,  with- 
out miOther,  without  descent,  having  neither  beginning 
of  days,  nor  end  of  life,"  and  as  he  significantly  adds, 
"  made  like  unto  the  Son  of  God."  For  as  Melchizedek 
stands  thus   on  the  page  of  history,  so  our  Lord   in 


Gen.xiv.]  ABRAM'S  RESCUE   OF  LOT.  129 

reality — as  the  one  has  no  recorded  pedigree,  and  holds 
an  office  beginning  and  ending  in  his  own  person,  so 
our  Lord,  though  born  of  a  woman,  stands  separate 
from  sinners  and  quite  out  of  the  ordinary  line  of 
generations,  and  exercises  an  office  which  he  received 
hereditarily  from  none,  and  which  he  could  commit  to  no 
successor.  As  the  one  stands  apparently  disconnected 
from  all  before  and  after  him,  so  the  Other  in  point  of 
fact  did  thus  suddenly  emerge  from  eternity,  a  problem 
to  all  who  saw  Him ;  owning  the  authority  of  earthly 
parents,  yet  claiming  an  antiquity  greater  than  Abram's  ; 
appearing  suddenly  to  the  captivity  led  captive,  with 
His  hands  full  of  gifts,  and  His  lips  dropping  words  of 
blessing. 

Melchizedek  is  the  one  personage  on  earth  whom 
Abram  recognises  as  his  spiritual  superior.  Abran: 
accepts  his  blessing  and  pays  him  tithes ;  apparently  as 
priest  of  the  Most  High  God ;  so  that  in  paying  to  him, 
Abram  is  giving  the  tenth  of  his  spoils  to  God.  This 
is  not  any  mere  courtesy  of  private  persons.  It  was 
done  in  presence  of  various  parties  of  jealously  watchful 
retainers.  Men  of  rank  and  office  and  position  consider 
how  they  should  act  to  one  another  and  who  should 
take  precedence.  And  Abram  did  deliberately  and 
with  a  perfect  perception  of  what  he  was  doing,  what- 
ever he  now  did.  Manifestly  therefore  God's  revelation 
of  Himself  was  not  as  yet  confined  to  the  one  line  run- 
ning from  Abram  to  Christ.  Here  was  a  man  of  whom 
we  really  do  not  know  whether  he  was  a  Canaanite,  a 
son  of  Ham  or  a  son  of  Shem  ;  yet  Abram  recognises 
him  as  having  knowledge  of  the  true  God,  and  even  bows 
to  him  as  his  spiritual  superior  in  office  if  not  in  expe- 
rience. This  shows  us  how  little  jealousy  Abram  had 
of  others  being  favoured  by  God,  how  little  he  thought 

9 


I30  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

his  connection  with  God  would  be  less  secure  if  other 
men  enjoyed  a  similar  connection,  and  how  heartily  he 
welcomed  those  who  with  different  rites  and  different 
prospects  3^et  worshipped  the  living  God.  It  shows  us 
also  how  apt  we  are  to  limit  God's  ways  of  working ; 
and  how  little  we  understand  of  the  connections  He 
has  with  those  who  are  not  situated  as  we  ourselves 
are.  Here  while  all  our  attention  is  concentrated  on 
Abram  as  carrying  the  whole  spiritual  hope  of  the 
world,  there  emerges  from  an  obscure  Canaanite  valley 
a  man  nearer  to  God  than  Abram  is.  From  how  many 
unthought-of  places  such  men  may  at  any  time  come 
out  upon  us,  we  really  can  never  tell. 

Again  Melchizedek  is  evidently  a  title,  not  a  name — 
the  word  means  King  of  Righteousness,  or  Righteous 
King.  It  may  have  been  a  title  adopted  by  a  line  of 
kings,  or  it  may  have  been  peculiar  to  this  one  man. 
But  these  old  Canaanites,  if  Canaanites  they  were,  had 
got  hold  of  a  great  principle  when  they  gave  this  title 
to  the  king  of  their  city  of  Salem  or  Peace.  They 
perceived  that  it  was  the  righteousness,  the  justice,  of 
their  king  that  could  best  uphold  their  peaceful  city. 
They  saw  that  the  right  king  for  them  was  a  man  not 
grinding  his  neighbours  by  war  and  taxes,  not  over- 
riding the  rights  of  others  and  seeking  always  enlarge- 
ment of  his  own  dominion ;  nor  a  merely  merciful  man, 
inclined  to  treat  sin  lightly  and  leaning  always  to 
laxity  ;  but  the  man  they  would  choose  to  give  them 
peace  was  the  righteous  man  who  might  sometimes 
seem  overscrupulous,  sometimes  over-stern,  who  would 
sometimes  be  called  romantic  and  sometimes  fanatical, 
but  through  all  whose  dealings  it  would  be  obvious  that 
justice  to  all  parties  was  the  aim  in  view.  Some  of 
them  might  not  be  good  enough  to  love  a  ruler  who 


Gen.xiv.]  ABRAM'S  RESCUE    OF   LOT.  131 

made  no  more  of  their  special  interest  than  he  did  of 
others,  but  all  would  possibly  have  wit  enough  to  see 
that  only  by  justice  could  they  have  peace.  It  is  the 
reflex  of  God's  government  in  which  righteousness  is 
the  foundation  of  peace,  a  righteousness  unflinching 
and  invariable,  promulgating  holy  laws  and  exacting 
punishment  from  all  who  break  them.  It  is  this  that 
gives  us  hope  of  eternal  peace,  that  we  know  God  has 
not  left  out  of  account  facts  that  must  yet  be  reckoned 
with,  nor  merely  lulled  the  unquiet  forebodings  of 
conscience,  but  has  let  every  righteous  law  and  prin- 
ciple find  full  scope,  has  done  righteously  in  offering 
us  pardon  so  that  nothing  can  ever  turn  up  to  deprive 
us  of  our  peace.  And  it  is  quite  in  vain  that  any 
individual  holds  before  his  mind  the  prospect  of  peace, 
i.e.  of  permanent  satisfaction,  so  long  as  he  is  not 
seeking  it  by  righteousness.  In  so  far  as  he  is  keeping 
his  conscience  from  interfering,  in  so  far  is  he  making 
it  impossible  to  himself  to  enter  into  the  condition 
for  the  sake  of  which  he  is  keeping  conscience  from 
regulating  his  conduct. 

Lastl}',  Abram's  refusal  of  the  king  of  Sodom's  offers 
is  significant.  Naturally  enough,  and  probably  in 
accordance  with  well-established  usage,  the  king  pro- 
poses that  Abram  should  receive  the  rescued  goods  and 
the  spoil  of  the  invading  army.  But  Abram  knew  men, 
and  knew  that  although  now  Sodom  was  eager  to  show 
that  he  felt  himself  indebted  to  Abram,  the  time  would 
come  when  he  would  point  to  this  occasion  as  laying 
the  foundation  of  Abram's  fortune.  When  a  man  rises 
in  the  world  every  one  will  tell  you  of  the  share  he  had 
in  raising  him,  and  will  convey  the  impression  that  but 
for  assistance  rendered  by  the  speaker  he  would  not 
have   been   v.hat  he   now  is.     Abram    knows   that   he 


132  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

is  destined  to  rise,  and  knows  also  by  Whose  help  he 
is  to  rise.  He  intends  to  receive  all  from  God ;  and 
therefore  not  a  thread  from  Sodom.  He  puts  his 
refusal  in  the  form  adopted  by  the  man  whose  mind  is 
made  up  beyond  revisal.  He  has  "vowed"  it.  He 
had  anticipated  such  offers  and  had  considered  their 
bearing  on  his  relations  to  God  and  man  ;  and  taking 
advantage  of  the  unembarrassed  season  in  which  the 
offer  was  as  yet  only  a  possibility,  he  had  resolved 
that  when  it  was  actually  made  he  would  refuse  it,  no 
matter  what  advantages  it  seemed  to  offer.  So  should 
we  in  our  better  seasons  and  when  we  know  we  are 
viewing  things  healthily,  conscientiously,  and  right- 
eously, determine  what  our  conduct  is  to  be,  and  if 
possible  so  commit  ourselves  to  it  that  when  the  right 
frame  is  passed  we  cannot  draw  back  from  the  right 
conduct.  Abram  had  done  so,  and  however  tempting 
the  spoils  of  the  Eastern  kings  were,  they  did  not  move 
him.  His  vow  had  been  made  to  the  Possessor  of 
heaven  and  earth,  in  Whose  hand  were  riches  beyond 
the  gifts  of  Sodom. 

Here  again  it  is  the  man  of  faith  that  appears.  He 
shows  a  noble  jealousy  of  God's  prerogative  to  bless 
him.  He  will  not  give  men  occasion  to  say  that  any 
earthly  monarch  has  enriched  him.  It  shall  be  made 
plain  that  it  is  on  God  he  is  depending.  In  all  men 
of  faith  there  will  be  something  of  this  spirit.  They 
cannot  fail  so  to  frame  their  life  as  to  let  it  come  clearly 
out  that  for  happiness,  for  success,  for  comfort,  for  joy, 
they  are  in  the  main  depending  on  God.  That  this 
cannot  be  done  in  the  complex  life  of  modern  society, 
no  one  will  venture  to  say  in  presence  of  this  incident. 
Could  we  more  easily  have  shown  our  reliance  upon 
God  in  the  hurry  of  a  sudden  foray,  in  the  turmoil  and 


Gen.  xiv.]  ABRAM'S  RESCUE   OF  LOT.  133 

intense  action  of  a  midnight  attack  and  hand  to  hand 
conflict,  in  the  excitement  and  elation  of  a  triumphal 
progress,  the  kings  of  the  country  vying  with  one 
another  to  do  us  honour  and  the  rescued  captives 
lauding  our  valour  and  generosity  ?  No  one  fails  to 
see  what  it  was  that  balanced  Abram  in  this  intoxicating 
march.  No  one  asks  what  enabled  him,  while  leading 
his  armed  followers  flushed  with  success  through  a 
land  weakened  by  recent  dismay  and  disaster,  to 
restrain  them  and  himself  from  claiming  the  whole 
land  as  his.  No  one  asks  what  gave  him  moral  per- 
ception to  see  that  the  opportunity  given  him  of  winning 
the  land  by  the  sword  was  a  temptation  not  a  guiding 
providence.  To  every  reader  it  is  obvious  that  his 
dependence  on  God  was  his  safeguard  and  his  light. 
God  would  bring  him  by  fair  and  honourable  means  to 
his  own.  There  was  no  need  of  violence,  no  need 
of  receiving  help  from  doubtful  allies.  This  is  true 
nobility ;  and  this,  faith  always  produces.  But  it  must 
be  a  faith  like  Abram's ;  not  a  quick  and  superficial 
growth,  but  a  deeply-rooted  principle.  For  against 
all  temptations  this  only  is  our  sure  defence,  that 
already  our  hearts  are  so  filled  with  God's  promise 
that  other  offers  find  no  craving  in  us,  no  empty 
dissatisfied  spot  on  which  they  can  settle.  To  such 
faith  God  responds  by  the  elevating  and  strengthening 
assurance,  "  I  am  thy  shield,  and  thy  exceeding  great 
reward." 


XL 

COVENANT   WITH  ABRAM. 
Genesis  xv. 

OF  the  nine  Divine  manifestations  made  during 
Abram's  life  this  is  the  fifth.  At  Ur,  at  Kharran, 
at  the  oak  of  Moreh,  at  the  encampment  between  Bethel 
and  Ai,  and  now  at  Manire,  he  received  guidance  and 
encouragement  from  God.  Different  terms  are  used 
regarding  these  manifestations.  Sometimes  it  is  said 
"  The  Lord  appeared  unto  him ;  "  here  for  the  first 
time  in  the  course  of  God's  revelation  occurs  that 
expression  which  afterwards  became  normal,  "  The 
word  of  the  Lord  came  unto  Abram."  Throughout 
the  subsequent  history  this  word  of  the  Lord  continues 
to  come,  often  at  long  intervals,  but  alwa3^s  meeting  the 
occasion  and  needs  of  His  people  and  joining  itself  on 
to  what  had  already  been  declared,  until  at  last  the 
Word  became  flesh  and  dwelt  among  us,  giving  thus 
to  all  men  assurance  of  the  nearness  and  profound 
sympathy  of  their  God.  To  repeat  this  revelation  is 
impossible.  A  repetition  of  it  would  be  a  denial  of  its 
reality.  For  a  second  life  on  earth  is  allowed  to  no  man  ; 
and  were  our  Lord  to  live  a  second  human  life  it  were 
proof  He  was  no  true  man,  but  an  anom.alous,  unaccount- 
able, uninstructive,  appearance  or  simulacrum  of  a  man. 
But  though   these  revelations  of  God   are  finished, 


Gen.xv.J  COVEKANT   WITH  ADRAM.  135 

though  complete  knowledge  of  God  is  given  in  Christ, 
God  comes  to  the  individual  still  through  the  Spirit 
Whose  office  it  is  to  take  of  the  things  of  Christ  and 
show  them  to  us.  And  in  doing  so  the  law  is  observea 
which  we  see  illustrated  here.  God  comes  to  a  man 
with  further  encouragement  and  light  for  a  new  step 
when  he  has  conscientiously  used  the  light  he  already 
has.  The  temper  that  "  seeks  for  a  sign  "  and  expects 
that  some  astounding  Providence  should  be  sent  to 
make  us  religious  is  by  no  means  obsolete.  Many 
seem  to  expect  that  before  they  act  on  the  knowledge 
they  have,  they  will  receive  more.  They  put  off  giving 
themselves  to  the  service  of  God  under  some  kind  of 
impression  that  some  striking  event  or  much  more 
distinct  knowledge  is  required  to  give  them  a  decided 
turn  to  a  religious  life.  In  so  doing  they  invert  God's 
order.  It  is  when  we  have  conscientiously  followed 
such  light  as  we  have,  and  faithfully  done  all  that  we 
know  to  be  right,  that  God  gives  us  further  light.  It 
was  immediately  on  the  back  of  faithful  action  that 
Abram  received  new  help  to  his  faith. 

The  time  was  seasonable  for  other  reasons.  Never 
did  Abram  feel  more  in  need  of  such  assurance.  He 
had  been  successful  in  his  midnight  attack  and  had 
scattered  the  force  from  beyond  Euphrates,  but  he 
knew  the  temper  of  these  Eastern  monarchs  well 
enough,  to  be  aware  that  there  was  nothing  they 
hailed  with  greater  pleasure  than  a  pretext  for  extend- 
ing their  conquests  and  adding  to  their  territory.  To 
Abram  it  must  have  appeared  certain  that  the  next 
campaigning  season  would  see  his  country  invaded  and 
his  little  encampment  swept  away  by  the  Eastern  host. 
Most  appropriate,  therefore,  are  the  words  :  "  Fear  not, 
Abram :  I  am  thy  shield." 


136  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

But  another  train  of  thoughts  occupied  Abram's 
mind  perhaps  even  more  unceasingly  at  this  time. 
After  busy  engagement  comes  dulness ;  after  triumph, 
flatness  and  sadness.  I  have  pursued  kings,  got  myself 
a  great  name,  led  captivity  captive.  Men  are  speaking 
of  me  in  Sodom,  and  finding  that  in  me  they  h&ve  a 
useful  and  important  ally.  But  what  is  all  this  to  my 
purpose  ?  Am  I  any  nearer  my  inheritance  ?  I  have 
got  all  that  men  might  think  I  needed  ;  they  may  be 
unable  to  understand  why  now,  of  all  times,  I  should 
seem  heartless ;  but,  O  Lord,  Thou  knowest  how 
empty  these  things  seem  to  me,  and  what  wilt  Thou 
give  me  ?  Abram  could  not  understand  why  he  was 
kept  so  long  waiting.  The  child  given  when  he  was 
a  hundred  years  old  might  equally  have  been  given 
twenty-five  years  before,  when  he  first  came  to  the 
land  of  Canaan.  All  Abram's  servants  had  their 
children,  there  was  no  lack  of  young  men  born  in  his 
encampment.  He  could  not  leave  his  tent  without 
hearing  the  shouts  of  other  men's  children,  and  having 
them  cling  to  his  garments — but  "  to  me  Thou  hast 
given  no  seed ;  and  lo  !  one  born  in  mine  house,  a 
slave,  is  mine  heir." 

Thus  it  often  is  that  while  a  man  is  receiving  much 
of  what  is  generally  valued  in  the  world,  the  one  thing 
he  himself  most  prizes  is  beyond  his  reach.  H^  has 
his  hope  irremovably  fixed  on  something  which  he 
feels  would  complete  his  life  and  make  him  a  thoroughly 
happy  man ;  there  is  one  thing  which,  above  all  else, 
would  be  a  right  and  helpful  blessing  to  him.  He 
speaks  of  it  to  God.  For  years  it  has  framed  a  petition 
for  itself  when  no  other  desire  could  make  itself  heard. 
Back  and  back  to  this  his  heart  comes,  unable  to  find 
rest    in    anything    so    long   as    this   is    withheld.     He 


Gen.  XV.]  COVENANT  WITH  ABRAM.  137 

cannot  help  feeling  that  it  is  God  who  is  keeping  it 
from  him.  He  is  tempted  to  sa}^  "  What  is  the  use 
of  all  else  to  me,  why  give  me  things  Thou  knowest  I 
care  little  for,  and  reserve  the  one  thing  on  which  my 
happiness  depends  ? "  As  Abram  might  have  said ; 
"  Why  make  me  a  great  name  in  the  land,  when  there 
is  no  one  to  keep  it  alive  in  men's  memories  ;  why 
increase  my  possessions  when  there  is  none  to  inherit 
but  a  stranger  ?  " 

Is  there  then  any  resulting  benefit  to  character  in 
this  so  common  experience  of  delayed  expectations  ? 
In  Abram's  case  there  certainly  was.  It  was  in  these 
years  he  was  drawn  close  enough  to  God  to  hear  Him 
sa3%  "  /  am  thy  exceeding  great  reward."  He  learned 
in  the  multitude  of  his  debatings  about  God's  promise 
and  the  delay  of  its  fulfilment,  that  God  was  more  than 
all  His. gifts.  He  had  started  as  a  mere  hopeful  colonist 
and  founder  of  a  family ;  these  twenty-five  3'ears  of 
disappointment  made  him  the  friend  of  God  and  the 
Father  of  the  Faithful.  Slowly  do  we  also  pass  from 
delight  in  God's  gifts  to  delight  in  Himself,  and  often 
by  a  similar  experience.  From  what  have  you  received 
truest  and  deepest  pleasure  in  life  ?  Is  it  not  from 
3'our  friendships  ?  Not  from  what  your  friends  have 
given  you  or  done  for  you  ;  rather  from  what  you  have 
done  for  them  ;  but  chiefly  from  your  affectionate  inter- 
course. You,  being  persons,  must  find  your  truest 
joy  in  persons,  in  personal  love,  personal  goodness  and 
wisdom.  But  friendship  has  its  crown  in  the  friend- 
ship of  God.  The  man  who  knows  God  as  his  friend 
and  is  more  certain  of  God's  goodness  and  wisdom  and 
steadfastness  than  he  can  be  of  the  worth  of  the  man 
he  has  loved  and  trusted  and  delighted  in  from  his  boy- 
hood, the  man  who  is  always  accompanied  by  a  latent 


138  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

sense  of  God's  observation  and  love,  is  truly  living  in  the 
peace  of  God  that  passeth  understanding.  This  raises 
him  above  the  touch  of  worldly  losses  and  restores  him 
in  all  distresses,  even  to  the  surprise  of  observers  ;  his 
language  is,  "  There  may  be  many  that  will  say,  Who 
will  show  us  any  good  ?  Lord,  lift  Thou  up  the  light 
of  Thy  countenance  upon  us.  Thoii  hast  put  gladness 
in  my  heart  more  than  in  the  time  that  their  corn  and 
their  wine  increased." 

But  evidently  there  was  still  another  feeling  in 
Abram's  heart  at  this  particular  point  in  his  career. 
He  could  not  bear  to  think  he  was  to  miss  that  very 
thing  which  God  had  promised  him.  The  keen  yearn- 
ing for  an  heir  which  God's  promise  had  stirred  in  him 
was  not  lost  sight  of  in  the  great  saying,  "  /  am  thy 
exceeding  great  reward."  When  he  was  journeying 
back  to  his  encampment  not  a  shoestring  richer  than 
he  left,  and  while  he  heard  his  men,  disappointed  of 
booty,  murmuring  that  he  should  be  so  scrupulous,  he 
cannot  but  have  felt  some  soreness  that  he  should  be 
set  before  his  little  world  as  a  man  who  had  the  enjoy- 
ment neither  of  this  world's  rewards  nor  of  God.  And 
»here  must  have  come  the  strong  temptation  that  comes 
to  every  man :  Might  it  not  be  as  well  to  take  what 
he  could  get,  to  enjoy  what  was  put  fairly  within  his 
reach,  instead  of  waiting  for  what  seemed  so  uncertain 
as  God's  gift  ?  It  is  painful  to  be  exposed  to  the 
observation  of  others  or  to  our  own  observation,  as 
persons  who,  on  the  one  hand,  refuse  to  seek  happiness 
in  the  world's  way,  and  yet  are  not  finding  it  in  God. 
You  have  possibly  with  some  magnanimity  rejected  a 
tempting  offer  because  there  were  conditions  attached 
to  which  conscience  could  not  reconcile  itself;  but  you 
find    that   you    are    in    consequence    suffering   greater 


Gen.  XV.]  COVENANT  WITH  ABRAM.  139 

privations  than  you  expected  and  that  no  providential 
intervention  seems  to  be  made  to  reward  your  con- 
scientiousness. Or  you  suddenly  become  aware  that 
though  you  have  for  years  refused  to  be  mirthful  or 
influential  or  successful  or  comfortable  in  the  world's 
way  and  on  the  world's  terms,  you  are  yet  getting  no 
substitute  for  what  you  refuse.  You  will  not  join  the 
world's  mirth,  but  then  you  are  morose  and  have  no 
joy  of  any  kind.  You  will  not  use  means  you  disap- 
prove of  for  influencing  men,  but  neither  have  you  the 
influence  of  a  strong  Christian  character.  In  fact  by 
giving  up  the  world  you  seem  to  have  contracted  and 
weakened  instead  of  enlarging  and  deepening  your 
life. 

In  such  a  condition  we  can  but  imitate  Abram  and 
cast  ourselves  more  resolutely  on  God.  If  you  find 
it  most  weary  and  painful  to  deny  yourself  in  these 
special  ways  which  have  fallen  to  be  your  experience, 
you  can  but  utter  your  complaint  to  God,  assured  that 
in  Him  you  will  find  consideration.  He  knows  why 
He  has  called  you,  why  He  has  given  you  strength  to 
abandon  worldly  hopes  ;  He  appreciates  your  adherence 
to  Him  and  He  will  renew  your  faith  and  hope.  If 
day  by  day  you  are  saying,  "  Lead  Thou  me  on,"  if 
you  say,  '*  What  wilt  Thou  give  me  ? "  not  in  com- 
plaint but  in  lively  expectation,  encouragement  enough 
will  be  yours. 

The  means  by  which  Abram's  faith  was  renewed  were 
appropriate.  He  has  been  seeing  in  the  tumult  and 
violence  and  disappointment  of  the  world  much  to  sug- 
gest the  thought  that  God's  promise  could  never  work 
itself  out  in  the  face  of  the  rude  realities  around  him. 
So  God  leads  him  out  and  points  him  to  the  stars,  each 
one  called  by  his  name,  and  thus  reminds  the  Chaldaean 


I40  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS 

'who  had  so  often  gazed  at  and  studied  them  in  their 
silent  steady  courses,  that  his  God  has  designs  of  infinite 
sweep  and  comprehension ;  that  throughout  all  space 
His  worlds  obey  His  will  and  all  harmoniously  play 
their  part  in  the  execution  of  His  vast  design  ;  that  we 
and  all  our  affairs  are  in  a  strong  hand,  but  moving  in 
orbits  so  immense  that  small  portions  of  them  do  not 
show  us  their  direction  and  may  seem  to  be  out  of 
course.  Abram  is  led  out  alone  with  the  mighty  Gcd, 
and  to  every  saved  soul  there  comes  such  a  crisis  when 
before  God's  majesty  we  stand  awed  and  humbled,  all 
complaints  hushed,  and  indeed  our  personal  interests 
disappear  or  become  so  merged  in  God's  purposes  that 
we  think  only  of  Him  ;  our  mistakes  and  wrong-doing 
are  seen  now  not  so  much  as  bringing  misery  upon 
ourselves  as  interrupting  and  perverting  His  purposes, 
and  His  word  comes  home  to  our  hearts  as  stable  and 
satisfying. 

It  was  in  this  condition  that  Abram  believed  God,  and 
He  counted  it  to  him  for  righteousness.  Probably  if  we 
read  this  without  Paul's  commentary  on  it  in  the  fourth 
of  Romans,  we  should  suppose  it  meant  no  more  than 
that  Abram's  faith,  exercised  as  it  was  in  trying  cir- 
cumstances, met  with  God's  cordial  approval.  The  faith 
or  belief  here  spoken  of  was  a  resolute  renewal  of  the 
feeling  which  had  brought  him  out  of  Chaldaea.  He 
put  himself  fairly  and  finally  into  God's  hand  to  be 
blessed  in  God's  way  and  in  God's  time,  and  this  act 
of  resignation,  this  resolve  that  he  would  not  force  his 
own  way  in  the  world  but  would  wait  upon  God,  was 
looked  upon  by  God  as  deserving  the  name  of  right- 
eousness, just  as  much  as  honesty  and  integrity  in  his 
conduct  with  Lot  or  wdth  his  servants.  Paul  begs  us 
to  notice  that  an  act  of  faith  accepting  God's  favour  is 


Gen.  XV.]  COVENANT   WITH  ABRAM.  141 

a  very  different  thing  from  a  work  done  for  the  sake  of 
winning  God's  favour.  God's  favour  is  always  a  matter 
of  grace,  it  is  favour  conferred  on  the  undeserving ;  it 
is  never  a  matter  of  debt,  it  is  never  favour  conferred 
because  it  has  been  won.  To  put  this  beyond  doubt 
he  appeals  to  this  righteousness  of  Abram's.  How,  he 
asks,  did  Abram  achieve  righteousness?  Not  by  observ- 
ing ordinances  and  commandments ;  for  there  were 
none  to  observe ;  but  by  trusting  God,  by  believing 
that  already  without  any  working  or  winning  of  his, 
God  loved  him  and  designed  blessedness  for  him,  in 
short  by  referring  his  prospect  of  happiness  and  use- 
fulness wholly  to  God  and  not  at  all  to  himself.  This 
is  the  essential  quality  of  the  godly;  and  having  this, 
Abram  had  that  root  which  produced  all  actual  right- 
eousness and  likeness  to  God. 

It  is  sufficiently  obvious  in  such  a  life  as  Abram's 
why  faith  is  the  one  thing  needful.  Faith  is  required 
because  it  is  only  when  a  man  believes  God's  promise 
and  rests  in  His  love  that  he  can  co-operate  with  God 
in  severing  himself  from  iniquitous  prospects  and  in  so 
living  for  spiritual  ends  as  to  enter  the  life  and  the 
blessedness  God  calls  him  to.  The  boy  who  does  not 
believe  his  father,  when  he  comes  to  him  in  the  midst  of 
his  play  and  tells  him  he  has  something  for  him  which 
will  please  him  still  better,  suffers  the  penalty  of  unbelief 
by  losing  what  his  father  would  have  given  him.  All 
missing  of  true  enjoyment  and  blessedness  results  from 
unbelief  in  God's  promise.  Men  do  not  walk  in  God's 
ways  because  they  do  not  believe  in  God's  ends.  They 
do  not  believe  that  spiritual  ends  are  as  substantial  and 
desirable  as  those  that  are  physical. 

Abram's  faith  is  easily  recognised,  because  not  only 
had  he  not  wrought  for  the  blessing  God  promised  him, 


142  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

but  it  was  impossible  for  him  even  to  see  how  it  could 
be  achieved.  That  which  God  promised  was  apparently 
quite  beyond  the  reach  of  human  power.  It  serves 
then  as  an  admirable  illustration  of  the  essence  of  faith; 
and  Paul  uses  it  as  such.  It  is  not  because  faith  is  the 
root  of  all  actual  righteousness  that  Paul  describes  it 
as  "imputed  for  righteousness."  It  is  because  faith 
at  once  gives  a  man  possession  of  what  no  amount  of 
working  could  ever  achieve.  God  now  offers  in  Christ 
righteousness,  that  is  to  say,  justification,  the  for- 
giveness of  sins  and  acceptance  with  God  with  all  the 
fruits  of  this  acceptance,  the  indwelling  Divine  Spirit 
and  life  everlasting.  He  offers  this  freely  as  he  offered 
to  Abram  what  Abram  could  never  have  won  for  him- 
self. And  all  that  we  are  asked  to  do  is  to  accept  it. 
This  is  all  we  are  asked  to  do  in  order  to  our  becom- 
ing the  forgiven  and  accepted  children  of  God.  After 
becoming  so,  there  of  course  remains  an  infinite  amount 
of  service  to  be  rendered,  of  work  to  be  done,  of  self- 
discipline  to  be  undergone.  But  in  answer  to  the 
awakened  sinner's  enquiry,  "  What  must  I  do  to  be 
saved,"  Paul  replies,  "  You  are  to  do  nothing ;  nothing 
you  can  do  can  win  God's  favour,  because  that  favour 
is  already  yours  \  nothing  3^ou  can  do  can  achieve  the 
rectification  of  your  present  condition,  but  Christ  has 
achieved  it.  Believe  that  God  is  with  you  and  that 
Christ  can  deliver  you  and  commit  3'Ourself  cordially  to 
the  life  you  are  called  to,  hopeful  that  what  is  promised 
will  be  fulfilled." 

Abram's  faith  cordial  as  it  was,  yet  was  not  inde- 
pendent of  some  sensible  sign  to  maintain  it.  The  sign 
given  was  twofold  :  the  smoking  furnace  and  a  pre- 
diction of  the  sojourn  of  Abram's  posterity  in  Egypt. 
The  symbols  were  similar  to  those  by  which  on  other 


Gen.  XV.]  COVENANT   WITH  ABRAM.  143 

occasions  the  presence  of  God  was  represented.  Fire, 
cleansing,  consuming,  and  unapproachable,  seemed  to 
be  the  natural  emblem  of  God's  holiness.  In  the 
present  instance  it  was  especially  suitable,  because  the 
manifestation  was  made  after  sundown  and  when  no 
other  could  have  been  seen.  The  cutting  up  of  the 
carcases  and  passing  between  the  pieces  was  one  of  the 
customary  forms  of  contract.  It  was  one  of  the  many 
devices  men  have  fallen  upon  to  make  sure  of  one 
another's  word.  That  God  should  condescend  to  adopt 
these  modes  of  pledging  Himself  to  men  is  significant 
testimony  to  His  love ;  a  love  so  resolved  on  accom- 
plishing the  good  of  men  that  it  resents  no  slowness  of 
faith  and  accommodates  itself  to  unworthy  suspicions. 
It  makes  itself  as  obvious  and  pledges  itself  with  as 
strong  guarantees  to  men  as  if  it  were  the  love  of  a 
mortal  whose  feelings  might  change  and  who  had  not 
clearly  foreseen  all  consequences  and  issues. 

The  prediction  of  the  long  sojourn  of  Abram's 
posterity  in  Egypt  was  not  only  helpful  to  those  who 
had  to  endure  the  Egyptian  bondage,  but  also  to 
Abram  himself.  He  no  doubt  felt  the  temptation,  from 
which  at  no  time  the  Church  has  been  free,  to  consider 
himself  the  favourite  of  heaven  before  whose  interests 
all  other  interests  must  bow.  He  is  here  taught  that 
other  men's  rights  must  be  respected  as  well  as  his, 
and  that  not  one  hour  before  absolute  justice  requires 
it,  shall  the  land  of  the  Amorites  be  given  to  his 
posterity.  And  that  man  is  considerably  past  the  rudi- 
mentary knowledge  of  God  who  understands  that  every 
act  of  God  springs  from  justice  and  not  from  caprice, 
and  that  no  creature  upon  earth  is  sooner  or  later  un- 
justly dealt  with,  by  the  Supreme  Ruler.  In  the  life 
of  Abram  it  becomes  visible,  how,  by  living  with  God 


144  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

and  watching  for  every  expression  of  His  will,  a  man's 
knowledge  of  the  Divine  nature  enlarges  ;  and  it  is  also 
interesting  to  observe  that  shortly  after  this  he  grounds 
all  his  pleading  for  Sodom  on  the  truth  he  had  learned 
here  :  "  Shall  not  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth  do  right  ?  " 

The  announcement  that  a  long  interval  must  elapse 
before  the  promise  was  fulfilled  must  no  doubt  have 
been  a  shock  to  Abram  ;  and  yet  it  was  sobering  and 
educative.  It  is  a  great  step  we  take  when  we  come 
clearly  to  understand  that  God  has  a  great  deal  to  do 
with  us  before  we  can  fully  inherit  the  promise.  For 
y  God's  promise,  so  far  from  making  ever3^thing  in  the 
future  easy  and  bright,  is  that  which  above  all  else 
discloses  how  stern  a  reality  life  is  ;  how  severe  and 
thorough  that  discipline  must  be  which  makes  us 
capable  of  achieving  God's  purposes  with  us.  A  horror, 
of  great  darkness  may  well  fall  upon  the  man  who 
enters  into  covenant  with  God,  who  binds  himself  to 
that  Being  whom  no  pain  nor  sacrifice  can  turn  aside 
from  the  pursuance  of  aims  once  approved.  When  we 
look  forward  and  consider  the  losses,  the  privations, 
the  self-denials,  the  delays,  the  pains,  the  keen  and 
real  discipline,  the  lowliness  of  the  life  to  which  fellow- 
ship with  God  leads  men,  darkness  and  gloom  and 
smoke  darken  our  prospect  and  discourage  us  ;  but  the 
smoke  is  that  which  arises  from  a  purifying  fire  that 
purges  away  all  that  prevents  us  from  living  spiritually, 
a  darkness  very  different  from  that  which  settles  over 
the  life  which  amidst  much  present  brightness  carries 
in  it  the  consciousness  that  its  course  is  downwards, 
that  the  blows  it  suffers  are  deadening,  that  its  sun  is 
steadily  nearing  its  setting  and  that  everlasting  night 
awaits  it. 

But  over  all  other  feelinsrs  this  solemn  transacting 


Gen.  XV.]  COVENANT   WITH  ABRAM.  145 

with  God  must  have  produced  in  Abram  a  humble 
ecstasy  of  confidence.  The  wonderful  mercy  and  kind- 
ness of  God  in  thus  binding  Himself  to  a  weak  and 
sinful  man  cannot  but  have  given  him  new  thoughts  of 
God  and  new  thoughts  of  himself  With  fresh  eleva- 
tion of  mind  and  superiority  to  ordinary  difficulties  and 
temptations  would  he  return  to  his  tent  that  night.  In 
how  different  a  perspective  would  all  things  stand  to 
him  now  that  the  Infinite  God  had  come  so  near  to 
him.  Things  which  yesterday  fretted  or  terrified  him 
seemed  now  remote  :  matters  which  had  occupied  his 
thought  he  did  not  now  notice  or  remember.  He  was 
now  the  Friend  of  God,  taken  up  into  a  new  world  of 
thoughts  and  hopes  ;  hiding  in  his  heart  the  treasure  of 
God's  covenant,  brooding  over  the  infinite  significance 
and  hopefulness  of  his  position  as  God's  ally. 

For  indeed  this  was  a  most  extraordinary  and  a 
most  encouraging  event.  The  Infinite  God  drew  near 
to  Abram  and  made  a  contract  Vv^ith  hirn.  God  as  it 
were  said  to  him,  I  wish  you  to  count  upon  Me,  to 
make  sure  of  Me  :  I  therefore  pledge  Myself  by  these 
accustomed  forms  to  be  your  Friend. 

But  it  was  not  as  an  isolated  person,  nor  for  his  own 
private  interests  alone  that  Abram  was  thus  dealt  with 
by  God.  It  was  as  a  medium  of  universal  blessing 
that  he  was  taken  into  covenant  with  God.  The  kind- 
ness of  God  which  he  experienced  was  merely  an 
intimation  of  the  kindness  all  men  would  experience. 
The  laying  aside  of  unapproachable  dignity  and  en- 
trance into  covenant  v/ith  a  man  was  the  proclam.ation 
of  His  readiness  to  be  helpful  to  all  and  to  brhig  Him- 
self within  reach  of  all.  That  you  may  have  a  God  at 
hand  He  thus  brought  Himself  down  to  men  end  human 
ways,  that  your  life  may  not  be  vain  and   ui:elcss,  dark 

10 


146  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

and  misguided,  and  that  you  may  find  that  you  have  a 
part  in  a  well-ordered  universe  in  which  a  holy  God 
cares  for  all  and  makes  His  strength  and  wisdom  avail- 
able for  all.  Do  not  allow  these  intimations  cf  His 
mercy  to  go  for  nothing  but  use  them  as  intended  for 
your  guidance  and  encouragement. 


XII. 

BIRTH    OF  ISHMAEL. 
Genesis  xvi, 

IN  this  unpretending  chapter  we  have  laid  bare  to  us 
the  origin  of  one  of  the  most  striking  facts  in  the 
history  of  religion  :  namely,  that  from  the  one  person 
of  Abram  have  sprung  Christianity  and  that  religion 
which  has  been  and  still  is  its  most  formidable  rival 
and  enemy,  Mohammedanism.  To  Ishmael,  the  son  of 
Abram,  the  Arab  tribes  are  proud  to  trace  their  pedi- 
gree. Through  him  they  claim  Abram  as  their  father, 
and  affirm  that  they  are  his  truest  representatives,  ti  e 
sons  of  his  first-born.  In  Mohammed,  the  Arabian, 
they  see  the  fulfilment  of  the  blessing  of  Abram,  and 
they  have  succeeded  in  persuading  a  large  part  of  the 
world  to  believe  along  with  them.  Little  did  Sarah 
think  when  she  persuaded  Abram  to  take  Hagar  that 
she  was  originating  a  rivalry  which  has  run  with  keen- 
est animosity  through  all  ages  and  which  oceans  of 
blood  have  not  quenched.  The  domestic  rivalry  and 
petty  womanish  spites  and  resentments  so  candidly 
depicted  in  this  chapter,  have  actually  thrown  on  the 
world  from  that  day  to  this  one  of  its  darkest  and  least 
hopeful  shadows.  The  blood  of  our  own  countrymen, 
it  may  be  of  our  own  kindred,  will  yet  flow  in  this 
unappeasable  quarrel.     So  great  a  matter  does  a  little 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


fire  kindle.  So  lasting  and  disastrous  are  the  issues  of 
even  slight  divergences  from  pure  simplicity. 

It  is  instructive  to  observe  how  long  this  matter 
of  obtaining  an  heir  for  Abram  occupies  the  stage  of 
sacred  history  and  in  how  many  aspects  it  is  shown. 
The  stage  is  rapidly  cleared  of  whatever  else  might 
naturally  have  invited  attention,  and  interest  is  concen- 
trated on  the  heir  that  is  to  be.  The  risks  run  by  the 
appointed  mother,  the  doubts  of  the  father,  the  sur- 
render now  of  the  mother's  rights, — all  this  is  trivial  if 
it  concerned  only  one  household,  important  only  when 
you  view  it  as  significant  for  tl'wfO'ace.  It  was  thus 
men  were  taught  thoughtfully  to  brood  upon  the  future 
and  to  believe  that,  though  Divine,  blessing  and  salva- 
tion would  spring  from  earth  :  man  was  to  co-operate 
with  God,  to  recognise  himself  as  capable  of  uniting 
with  God  in  the  highest  of  all  purposes.  At  the  same 
time,  this  long  and  continually  deferred  expectation  of 
Abram  was  the  simple  means  adopled  by  God  to  con- 
vince men  once  for  all  that  the  promised  seed  is  not 
of  nature  but  of  grace,  that  it  is  Gcd  who  sends  all 
effectual  and  determining  blessing,  and  that  we  must 
learn  to  adapt  ourselves  to  His  ways  and  wait  upon  Him. 

The  first  man,  then,  whose  religious  experience  and 
growth  are  recorded  for  us  at  any  length,  has  this  one 
thing  to  learn,  to  trust  God's  word  and  wait  for  it.  In 
this  everything  is  included.  But  gradually  it  appears 
to  us  all  that  this  is  the  great  difficulty,  to  wait ;  to  let 
God  take  His  own  time  to  bless  us.  It  is  hard  to 
believe  in  God's  perfect  love  and  care  when  we  are 
receiving  no  present  comfort  or  peace  ;  hard  to  believe 
we  shall  indeed  be  sanctified  when  we  seem  to  be 
abandoned  to  sinful  habit ;  hard  to  pass  all  through  life 
with    some   pain,   or  some   crushing  trouble,   or  some 


Gen.  xvi.]  BIRTH  OF  ISHMAEL.  149 

harassing  anxiety,  or  some  unsatisfied  craving.  It  is 
easy  to  start  with  faith,  most  trying  to  endure  patiently 
to  the  end.  It  is  thus  God  educates  His  children. 
Compelled  to  wait  for  some  crowning  gift,  we  cannot, 
but  study  God's  waj^s.  It  is  thus  we  are  forced  to  looki' 
below  the  surface  of  life  to  its  hidden  meanings  and  to 
construe  God's  dealings  with  ourselves  apart  from  the 
experience  of  other  men.  It  is  thus  we  are  taught 
actually  to  loosen  our  hold  of  things  temporal  and  to 
lay  hold  on  what  is  spiritual  and  real.  He  who  leaves 
himself  in  God's  hand  will  one  day  declare  that  the 
pains  and  sorrows  he  suffered  were  trifling  in  com- 
parison with  what  he  has  won  from  them. 

But  Sarah  could  not  wait.  She  seems  to  have  fixed 
ten  years  as  the  period  during  which  she  would  wait ; 
but  at  the  expiry  of  this  term  she  considered  herself 
justified  in  helping  forward  God's  tardy  providence  by 
steps  of  her  own.  One  cannot  severely  blame  her. 
When  our  hearts  are  set  upon  some  definite  blessing, 
things  seem  to  move  too  slowly  and  we  can  scarcely 
refrain  from  urging  them  on  without  too  scrupulously 
enquiring  into  the  character  of  our  methods.  We  are 
willing  to  wait  for  a  certain  time,  but  beyond  that  we 
must  take  the  matter  into  our  own  hand.  This  incident 
shows,  what  all  life  shows,  that  whatever  be  the  boon 
you  seek,  you  do  yourself  an  injury  if  you  cease  to  seek 
it  in  the  best  possible  form  and  manner,  and  decline 
upon  some  lower  thing  which  you  can  secure  by  some 
easy  stratagem  of  your  own. 

The  device  suggested  by  Sarah  was  so  common  that 
the  wonder  is  that  it  had  not  long  before  been  tried. 
Jealousy  or  instinctive  reluctance  may  have  prevented 
her  from  putting  it  in  force.  She  might  no  doubt  have 
understood  that  God,  always  working  out  His  purposes 


/ 


150  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

in  consistency  with  all  that  is  most  honourable  and 
pure  in  human  conduct,  requires  of  no  one  to  swerve 
a  hair's  breadth  from  the  highest  ideal  of  what  a  human 
life  should  be,  and  that  just  in  proportion  as  we  seek 
the  best  gifts  and  the  most  upright  and  pure  path  to 
them  does  God  find  it  easy  to  bless  us.  But  in  her 
case  it  was  difficult  to  continue  in  this  belief;  and  at 
length  she  resolved  to  adopt  the  easy  and  obvious 
means  of  obtaining  an  heir.  It  was  unbelieving  and 
foolish,  but  not  m.ore  so  than  our  adoption  of  practices 
common  in  our  day  and  in  our  business  which  we 
know  are  not  the  best,  but  which  we  nevertheless 
make  use  of  to  obtain  our  ends  because  the  most 
righteous  means  possible  do  not  seem  workable  in  our 
circumstances.  Are  you  not  conscious  that  you  have 
sometimes  used  a  means  of  effecting  your  purpose, 
which  you  would  shrink  from  using  habitually,  but 
which  you  do  not  scruple  to  use  to  tide  you  over  a 
difficulty,  an  extraordinary  device  for  an  extraordinary 
emergency,  a  Hagar  brought  in  for  a  season  to  serve 
a  purpose,  not  a  Sarah  accepted  from  God  and  cherished 
as  an  eternal  helpmeet.  It  is  against  this  we  are  here 
warned.  From  a  Hagar  can  at  the  best  spring  only 
an  Ishmael,  while  in  order  to  obtain  the  blessing  God 
intends  we  must  betake  ourselves  to  God's  barren- 
looking  means. 

The  evil  consequences  of  Sarah's  scheme  were  ap- 
parent first  of  all  in  the  tool  she  made  use  of  Agur 
the  son  of  Jakeh  says  :  "  For  three  things  the  earth 
is  disquieted,  and  for  four  which  it  cannot  bear.  For 
a  servant  when  he  reigneth,  and  a  fool  when  he  is 
filled  with  meat ;  for  an  odious  woman  when  she  is 
married,  and  an  handmaid  that  is  heir  to  her  mistress." 
Naturally  this  half-heathen  girl,  when  she  found  that 


Gen.xvi.]  BIRTH  OF  ISIJMAEL.  151 

her  son  would  probably  inherit  all  Abram's  pos- 
sessions, forgot  herself,  and  looked  down  on  her 
present,  nominal  mistress.  A  flood  of  new  fancies 
possessed  her  vacant  mind  and  her  whole  demeanour 
becomes  insulting  to  Sarah.  The  slave-girl  could  not 
be  expected  to  sympathize  v.-ith  the  purpose  which 
Abram  and  Sarah  had  in  view  when  they  made  use 
of  her.  They  had  calculated  on  finding  only  the  un- 
questioning, mechanical  obedience  of  the  slave,  even 
while  raising  her  practically  to  the  dignity  of  a  wife. 
They  had  fancied  that  even  to  the  deepest  feelings  of 
her  woman's  heart,  even  in  maternal  hopes,  she  would 
be  plastic  in  their  hands,  their  mere  passive  instrument. 
But  they  have  entirely  miscalculated.  The  slave  has 
feelings  as  quick  and  tender  as  their  own,  a  life  and  a 
destiny  as  tenaciously  clung  to  as  their  God-appointed 
destiny.  Instead  of  simplifying  their  life  they  have 
merely  added  to  it  another  source  of  complexity  and 
annoyance.  It  is  the  common  fate  of  all  who  use 
others  to  satisfy  their  own  desires  and  purposes. 
The  instruments  they  use  are  never  so  soulless  and 
passive  as  it  is  wished.  If  persons  cannot  serve  you 
without  deteriorating  in  their  own  character,  you  have 
no  right  to  ask  them  to  serve  you.  To  use  human 
beings  as  if  they  were  soulless  machines  is  to  neglect 
radical  laws  and  to  inflict  the  most  serious  injury  on 
our  fellow-men.  Mistresses  who  do  not  treat  their 
servants  with  consideration,  recognising  that  they  are 
as  truly  women  as  themselves,  with  all  a  woman's  hopes 
and  feelings,  and  with  a  life  of  their  own  to  live,  are 
committing  a  grievous  wrong,  and  evil  will  come  of  it. 

In  such  an  emergency  as  now  arose  in  Abram's 
household,  character  shows  itself  clearly.  Sarah's 
vexation  at   the   success  of  her  own   scheme,  her  re- 


152  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

crimination  and  appeal  for  strange  justice,  her  unjustifi- 
able treatment  of  Hagar,  Abram's  Bedouin  disregard 
of  the  jealousies  of  the  women's  tent,  his  Gallio-like 
repudiation  of  judgment  in  such  quarrels,  his  regretful 
vexation  and  shame  that  through  such  follies,  mistakes, 
and  wranglings,  God  had  to  find  a  channel  for  His 
promise  to  flow — all  this  discloses  the  painful  ferment 
into  which  Abram's  household  was  thrown.  Sarah's 
attempt  to  rid  herself  with  a  high  hand  of  the  conse- 
quences of  her  scheme  was  signally  unsuccessful.  In 
the  same  inconsiderate  spirit  in  which  she  had  put 
Hagar  in  her  place,  she  now  forces  her  to  flee,  and 
fancies  that  she  has  now  rid  herself  and  her  household 
of  all  the  disagreeable  consequences  of  her  experiment. 
She  is  grievously  mistaken.  The  slave  comes  back 
upon  her  hands,  and  comes  back  with  the  promise  of 
a  son  who  should  be  a  continual  trouble  to  all  about 
him.  All  through  Ishniael's  boyhood  Abram  and  Sarah 
had  painfully  to  reap  the  fruits  of  what  they  had  sown. 
We  only  make  matters  worse  when  we  endeavour  by 
injustice  and  harshness  to  crush  cut  the  consequences 
of  wrong-doing.  The  difficulties  into  which  sin  has 
brought  us  can  only  be  effectually  overcome  by  sincere 
contrition  and  humiliation.  It  is  not  all  in  a  moment 
nor  by  one  happ}'  stroke  you  can  rectify  the  sin  or 
mistake  of  a  moment.  If  by  your  wise  devices  3'ou 
have  begotten  j^oung  Ishmaels,  if  something  is  every 
da}'^  grieving  you  and  saying  to  3'ou,  "  This  comes  of 
ycjwx  careless  inconsiderate  conduct  in  the  past,"  then 
see  that  in  j'our  vexation  there  is  real  penitence  and 
not  a  mere  indignant  resentment  against  circumstances 
or  a[  ain  -X  other  people,  and  see  that  you  are  not 
actual]}^  continuing  the  fault  which  first  gave  birth  to 
your  present  sorrow  and  entanglement. 


Gen.  xvi.]  BIRTH  OF  ISHMAEL.  153 

When  Hagar  fled  from  her  mistress  she  naturally 
took  the  way  to  her  old  country.  Instinctively  her 
feet  carried  her  to  the  land  of  her  birth.  And  as  she 
crossed  the  desert  country  where  Palestine,  Egypt  and 
Arabia  meet,  she  halted  by  a  fountain,  spent  with  her 
flight  and  awed  by  the  solitude  and  stillness  of  the 
desert.  Her  proud  spirit  is  broken  and  tamed,  the 
fond  memories  of  her  adopted  home  and  all  its  customs 
and  ways  and  familiar  faces  and  occupations,  overtake 
her  when  she  pauses  and  her  heart  reacts  from  the 
first  excitement  of  hasty  purpose  and  reckless  execution. 
To  whom  could  she  go  in  Egypt?  Was  there  one 
there  who  would  remember  the  little  slave  girl  or  who 
would  care  to  show  her  a  kindness  ?  Has  she  not 
acted  madly  in  fleeing  from  her  only  protectors  ?  The 
desolation  around  her  depicts  her  own  condition.  No 
motion  stirs  as  far  as  her  eye  can  reach,  no  bird  flies, 
no  leaf  trembles,  no  cloud  floats  over  the  scorching  sun, 
no  sound  breaks  the  death-like  quiet;  she  feels  as  if 
in  a  tomb,  severed  from  all  life,  forgotten  of  all.  Her 
spirit  is  breaking  under  this  sense  of  desolation,  when 
suddenly  her  heart  stands  still  as  she  hears  a  voice 
utter  her  own  name  "  Hagar,  Sarai's  maid."  As  readily 
as  every  other  person  when  God  speaks  to  them,  does 
Hagar  recognise  Who  it  is  who  has  followed  her  into 
this  blank  solitude.  In  her  circumstances  to  hear  the 
voice  of  God  left  no  room  for  disobedience.  The 
voice  of  God  made  audible  through  the  actual  circum- 
stances of  our  daily  life  acquires  a  force  and  an 
authority  we  never  attached  to  it  otherwise. 

Probably,    too,    Hagar    would    have   gone    back    to 
Abram's  tents  at   the    bidding  of  a  less  authoritative  1 
voice  than   this.     Already  she  was  softening  and   re- 
penting.    She  but  needed  some  one  to  say,  "  Go  back." 


154  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

You  may  often  make  it  easier  for  a  proud  man  to  do 
a  right  thing  by  giving  him  a  timely  word.  Frequently 
m.en  stand  in  the  position  of  Hagar,  knowing  the 
course  they  ought  to  adopt  and  yet  hesitating  to  adopt 
it  until  it  is  made  easy  to  them  by  a  wise  and  friendly 
word. 

In  the  promise  of  a  son  which  was  here  given  to  Hagar 
and  the  prediction  concerning  his  destiny,  while  there 
was  enough  to  teach  both  her  and  Abram  that  he  was 
not  to  be  the  heir  of  the  promise,  there  was  also  much 
to  gratify  a  mother's  pride  and  be  to  Hagar  a  source  of 
continual  satisfaction.  The  son  was  to  bear  a  name 
which  should  commemorate  God's  remembrance  of 
her  in  her  desolation.  As  often  as  she  murmured  it 
over  the  babe  or  called  it  to  the  child  or  uttered  it  in 
sharp  remonstrance  to  the  refractory  boy,  she  was  still 
reminded  that  she  had  a  helper  in  God  who  had  heard 
and  would  hear  her.  The  prediction  regarding  the 
child  has  been  strikingly  fulfilled  in  his  descendants  ; 
the  three  characteristics  by  which  they  are  distinguished 
being  precisely  those  here  mentioned.  "  He  will  be  a 
wild  man,"  literally,  "  a  wild  ass  among  men,"  reminding 
us  of  the  description  of  this  animal  in  Job  :  "  Whose 
house  I  have  made  the  wilderness,  and  the  barren  land 
his  dwelling.  He  scorneth  the  multitude  of  the  city, 
neither  regardeth  he  the  crying  of  the  driver.  The 
range  of  the  mountains  is  his  pasture,  and  he  searcheth 
after  every  green  thing."  Like  the  zebra  that  can- 
not be  domesticated,  the  Arab  scorns  the  comforts  of 
civilized  life,  and  adheres  to  the  primitive  dress,  food, 
and  mode  of  life,  delighting  in  the  sensation  of  freedom, 
scouring  the  deserts,  sufficient  with  his  horse  and  spear 
for  every  emergency.  His  hand  also  is  against  every 
man,  looking  on  all  as  his  natural  enemies  or  as    his 


Gen.xvi.]  BIRTH  OF  ISHMAEL.  155 

natural  prey ;  in  continual  feud  of  tribe  against  tribe  and 
of  the  whole  race  against  all  of  different  blood  and 
different  customs.  And  yet  he  "  dwells  in  the  presence  / 
of  his  brethren ; "  though  so  wa  like  a  temper  would  bode  ■ 
his  destruction  and  has  certainly  destroyed  other  races, 
this  Ishmaelite  stock  continues  in  its  own  lands  with  an 
uninterrupted  history.  In  the  words  of  an  authoritative 
writer :  "  They  have  roved  like  the  moving  sands  of 
their  deserts  ;  but  their  race  has  been  rooted  while  the 
individual  wandered.  That  race  has  neither  been' 
dissipated  by  conquest,  nor  lost  by  migration,  nor  con- 
founded with  the  blood  of  other  countries.  They  have 
continued  to  dwell  in  the  presence  of  all  their  brethren, 
a  distinct  nation,  wearing  upon  the  whole  the  same 
features  and  aspects  which  prophecy  first  impressed 
upon  them." 

What  struck  Hagar  most  about  this  interview  was 
God's  presence  with  her  in  this  remote  solitude.  She 
awakened  to  the  consciousness  that  duty,  hope,  God, 
are  ubiquitous,  universal,  carried  in  the  human  breast, 
not  confined  to  any  place.  Her  hopes,  her  haughtiness, 
her  sorrows,  her  flight,  were  all  known.  The  feeling- 
possessed  her  which  was  afterwards  expressed  by  the 
Psalmist  :  "  Thou  knowest  my  down-sitting,  and  mine 
uprising.  Thou  understandest  my  thoughts  afar  off. 
Thou  compassest  my  path  and  my  lying  down,  and 
art  acquainted  with  all  my  v/ays.  Thou  tellest  my 
wanderings ;  put  Thou  my  tears  in  Thy  bottle ;  are  they 
not  in  Thy  book  ?  "  Even  here  where  I  thought  to  have 
escaped  every  e3'e,  have  I  been  following  and  at  length 
found  Him  that  seeth  me.  As  truly  and  even  more 
perceptibly  than  in  Abram's  tents,  God  is  with  her 
here  in  the  desert.  To  evade  duty,  to  leave  responsi- 
bility behind  us,  is  impossible.     In  all  places  we  are 


1.56  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

God's  children,  bound  to  accept  the  responsibilities  of 
our  nature.  In  all  places  God  is  with  us,  not  only  to 
point  out  our  duty  but  to  give  us  the  feeling  that  in 
adhering  to  duty  we  adhere  to  Him,  and  that  it  is 
because  He  values  us  that  He  presses  dut}^  upon  us. 
With  Him  is  no  respect  of  persons ;  the  servant  is  in 
his  sight  as  vivid  a  personality  as  the  mistress,  and 
God  appears  not  to  the  overbearing  mistress  but  to  the 
overborne  servant. 

Happy  they  who  when  God  has  thus  met  them  and 
sent  them  back  on  their  own  footsteps,  a  long  and 
weary  return,  have  still  been  so  filled  with  a  sense  of 
God's  love  in  caring  for  them  through  all  their  errors, 
that  they  obey  and  return.  All  round  about  His  people 
does  God  encamp,  all  round  about  His  flock  does,  the 
faithful  Shepherd  watch  and  drive  back  upon  the  fold 
each  wanderer.  Not  only  to  those  v»^ho  are  consciously' 
seeking  Him  does  God  reveal  Himself,  but  often  to 
us  at  the  very  farthest  point  of  our  Avandering,  at  our 
extremity,  when  another  day's  journey  would  land  us 
in  a  region  from  which  there  is  no  return.  When  our 
regrets  for  the  past  become  intolerably  poignant  and 
bitter ;  when  we  see  a  waste  of  years  behind  us  barren 
as  the  sand  of  the  desert,  with  nothing  done  but  what 
should  but  cannot  be  undone;  when  the  heart  is  stupefied 
with  the  sense  of  its  madness  and  of  the  irretrievable 
loss  it  has  sustained,  or  when  we  look  to  the  future 
and  are  persuaded  little  can  grow  up  in  it  out  of  such 
a  past,  when  we  see  that  all  that  would  have  prepared 
us  for  it  has  been  lightly  thrown  aside  or  spent  reck- 
lessly for  nought,  when  our  hearts  fail  us,  this  is  God 
besetting  us  behind  and  before.  And  m.ay  He  grant  us 
strength  to  pray,  "  Show  me  Thy  ways,  O  Lord,  teach 
me  Thy  paths.     Lead  m.e  in  Thy  truth  and  teach  me  : 


Gen.  xvi.]  BIRTH  OF  ISHMAEL.  157 

for  Thou  art  the  God  of  my  salvation  ;  on  Thee  do  I 
wait  all  the  day." 

The  quiet  glow  of  hopefulness  with  which  Hagar 
returned  to  Abram's  encampment  should  possess  the 
spirit  of  every  one  of  us.  Hagar's  prospects  were  not 
in  all  respects  inviting.  She  knew  the  kind  of  treat- 
ment she  was  likely  to  receive  at  the  hands  of  Sarah. 
She  was  to  be  a  bondwoman  still.  But  God  had 
persuaded  her  of  His  care  and  had  given  her  a  hope 
large  enough  to  fill  her  heart.  That  hope  was  to  be 
fulfilled  by  a  return  to  the  home  she  had  fled  from,  by 
a  humbling  and  painful  experience.  There  is  no  person 
for  whom  God  has  not  similar  encouragement.  Fre- 
quently persons  forget  that  God  is  in  their  life,  fulfilling 
His  purposes.  They  flee  from  what  is  painful ;  they 
lose  their  bearings  in  life  and  know  not  which  way  to 
turn  ;  they  do  not  fancy  there  is  help  for  them  in  God. 
Yet  God  is  with  them  ;  by  these  very  circumstances 
that  reduce  them  to  desolateness  and  despair  He  leads 
them  to  hope  in  Him.  Each  one  of  us  has  a  place  in 
His  purpose ;  and  that  place  we  shall  find  not  by 
fleeing  from  Vv^hat  is  distressing  but  by  submitting 
ourselves  cheerfully  to  what  He  appoints.  God's  pur- 
pose is  real,  and  life  is  real,  meant  to  accomplish  not 
our  present  passing  pleasure,  but  lasting  good  in  con- 
formity with  God's  purpose.  Be  sure  that  when  you 
are  bidden  back  to  duties  that  seem  those  of  a  slave, 
you  are  bidden  to  them  by  God,  Whose  purposes  are 
worthy  of  Himself  and  Whose  purposes  include  you 
and  all  that  concerns  you. 

There  are,  I  think,  few  truths  more  animating  than 
this  which  is  here  taught  us,  that  God  has  a  purpose 
with  each  of  us  ;  that  however  insignificant  we  seem, 
however    friendless,    however    hardly    used,    however 


IS8  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

ousted  even  from  our  natural  place  in  this  world's 
households,  God  has  a  place  for  us  ;  that  however  we 
lose  our  way  in  life  we  are  not  lost  from  His  eye ;  that 
even  when  we  do  not  think  of  choosing  Him  He  in  His 
Divine,  all-embracing  love  chooses  us,  and  throws  about 
us  bonds  from  which  we  cannot  escape.  Of  Hagar 
many  were  complacently  thinking  it  was  no  great 
matter  if  she  were  lost,  and  some  might  consider  them- 
selves righteous  because  they  said  she  deserved  what- 
ever mishap  might  befall  her.  But  not  so  God.  Of 
some  of  us,  it  may  be,  others  may  think  no  great  blank 
would  be  made  by  our  loss ;  but  God's  compassion  and 
care  and  purpose  comprehend  the  least  worthy.  The 
very  hairs  of  your  head  are  all  numbered  by  Him. 
Nothing  is  so  trivial  and  insignificant  as  to  escape  His 
attention,  nothing  so  intractable  that  He  cannot  use  it 
for  good.  Trust  in  Him,  obey  Him,  and  your  life  will 
yet  be  useful  and  happy. 


XIII. 

THE    COVENANT  SEALED. 
Genesis  xvii. 

ACCORDING  to  the  dates  here  given  fourteen  years 
had  passed  since  Abram  had  received  any  intima- 
tion of  God's  will  regarding  him.  Since  the  covenant 
had  been  made  some  twenty  years  before,  no  direct 
communication  had  been  received  ;  and  no  message  of 
any  kind  since  Ishmael's  birth.  It  need  not,  therefore, 
surprise  us  that  we  are  often  allowed  to  remain  for 
years  in  a  state  of  suspense,  uncertain  about  the  future, 
feeling  that  we  need  more  light  and  yet  unable  to  find 
it.  All  truth  is  not  discovered  in  a  day,  and  if  that  on 
which  we  are  to  found  for  eternity  take  us  twenty  years 
or  a  life's  experience  to  settle  it  in  its  place,  why  should 
we  on  this  account  be  overborne  with  discouragement  ? 
They  who  love  the  truth  and  can  as  little  abstain  from 
seeking  it  as  the  artist  can  abstain  from  admiring  what 
is  lovely,  will  assuredly  have  their  reward.  To  be  ex- 
pectant yet  not  impatient,  unsatisfied  yet  not  unbelieving, 
to  hold  mind  and  heart  open,  assured  that  Hght  is  sown 
for  the  upright  and  that  all  that  is  has  lessons  for  the 
teachable,  this  is  our  proper  attitude. 

Think  you,  'mid  all  this  mighty  sum 
,  Of  things  for  ever  speaking, 

That  nothing  of  itself  will  come, 
But  we  must  still  be  seeking  ? 


i6o  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

We  appreciate  the  significance  of  a  revelation  in  pro-- 
portion  as  we  understand  the  state  of  mind  to  which  it 
is  made.  Abram's  state  of  mind  is  disclosed  in  the 
exclamation :  "  Oh,  that  Ishmael  might  live  before 
Thee  ! "  He  had  learned  to  love  the  bold,  brilliant, 
domineering  boy.  He  saw  how  the  men  liked  to  serve 
him  and  how  proud  they  were  of  the  young  chief.  No 
doubt  his  wild  intractable  ways  often  made  his  father 
anxious.  Sarah  was  there  to  point  out  and  exaggerate 
all  his  faults  and  to  prognosticate  mischief.  But  there 
he  was,  in  actual  flesh  and  blood,  full  of  life  and  interest 
in  everything,  daily  getting  deeper  into  the  affections  of 
Abram,  who  allowed  and  could  not  but  allow  his  own 
life  to  revolve  very  much  around  the  dashing,  attractive 
lad.  So  that  the  reminder  that  he  was  not  the  promised 
heir  was  not  entirely  welcome.  When  he  was  told 
that  the  heir  of  promise  was  to  be  Sarah's  child,  he 
could  not  repress  the  somewhat  peevish  exclamation  :. 
"  Oh,  that  Ishmael  might  serve  Thy  turn  ! "  Why 
call  me  off  again  from  this  actual  attainment  to  the 
vague,  shadowy,  non-existent  heir  of  promise,  who 
surely  can  never  have  the  brightness  of  eye  and  force 
of  limb  and  lordly  ways  of  this  Ishmael  ?  Would  that 
what  already  exists  in  actual  substance  before  the  eye 
might  satisfy  Thee  and  fulfil  Thine  intention  and 
supersede  the  necessity  of  further  waiting !  Must  I 
again  loosen  my  hold,  and  part  with  my  chief  attainment  ? 
Must  I  cut  my  moorings  and  launch  again  upon  this 
ocean  of  faith  with  a  horizon  always  receding  and  that 
seems  absolutely  boundless  ? 

We  are  familiar  with  this  state  of  mind.  We  wish 
God  would  leave  us  alone.  We  have  found  a  very 
attractive  substitute  for  what  He  promises,  and  we 
resent  being  reminded  that  cur  substitute  is  not,  after 


Gen.xvii.]  THE   COVENANT  SEALED.  i6i 

all,  the  veritable,  eternal,  best  possession.  It  satisfies 
our  taste,  our  intellect,  cur  ambition ;  it  sets  us  on  a 
level  with  other  men  and  gives  us  a  place  in  the  world  ; 
but  now  and  again  we  feel  a  void  it  does  not  fill.  We 
have  attained  comfortable  circumstances,  success  in  our 
profession,  our  life  has  in  it  that  which  attracts  applause 
and  sheds  a  brilliance  over  it ;  and  we  do  not  like  being 
told  that  this  is  not  all.  Our  feeling  is  Oh,  that  this 
might  do  !  that  this  might  be  accepted  as  perfect  attain- 
ment !  it  satisfies  me  (all  but  a  little  bit)  ;  might  it  not 
satisfy  God  ?  Why  summon  me  again  away  frcm 
domestic  happiness,  intellectual  enjoyment,  agreeable 
occupations,  to  what  really  seems  so  unattainable  as 
perfect  fellowship  with  God  in  the  fulfilm.ent  of  His 
promise  ?  Why  spend  all  my  life  in  waiting  and  seek- 
ing for  high  spiritual  things  when  I  have  so  much  with 
which  I  can  be  moderately  satisfied  ?  For  our  com- 
plaint often  is  not  that  God  gives  so  little  but  that  He 
offers  too  much,  more  than  we  care  to  have  :  that  He 
never  will  let  us  be  content  with  anything  short  of  what 
perfectly  fulfils  His  perfect  love  and  purpose. 

This  being  Abram's  state  of  mind,  he  is  aroused  from 
it  by  the  words  :  "  I  am  the  Almighty  God  ;  walk  before 
Me  and  be  thou  perfect."  I  am  the  Almighty  God,  able 
to  fulfil  your  highest  hopes  and  accomplish  for  you 
the  brightest  ideal  that  ever  My  words  set  before  you. 
There  is  no  need  of  paring  down  the  promise  till  it 
square  with  human  probabilities,  no  need  of  relin- 
quishing one  hope  it  has  begotten,  no  need  of  adopting 
some  interpretation  of  it  which  may  make  it  seem  easier 
to  fulfil,  and  no  need  of  striving  to  fulfil  it  in  any 
second-rate  way.  All  possibility  lies  in  this  :  I  am  the 
Almighty  God.  Walk  before  Me  and  be  thou  perfect, 
therefore.     Do  not  train  your  eye  to  earthly  distances 

1 1 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


and  earthly  magnitudes  and  liir.it  3'our  hope  accordingly, 
but  Hve  in  the  presence  of  the  Ahnighty  God.  Do  not 
defer  the  advices  of  conscience  and  of  your  purest 
aspirations  to  some  other  possible  world  ;  do  not  settle 
down  at  the  low  level  of  godless  nature  and  of  the  men 
around  you  ;  do  not  give  way  to  what  j^ou  yourself 
know  to  be  weakness  and  evidence  of  defeat ;  do  not  let 
self-indulgence  take  the  place  of  My  commandments, 
indolence  supplant  resolution  and  the  likelihoods  of 
human  calculation  obiiccrate  the  hopes  stirred  by  the 
Divine  call  :  Be  thou  perfect.  Is  not  this  a  summons 
that  com.es  appropriatel}'  to  every  man  ?  Whatever  be 
our  contentrnxcnt,  our  attainments,  our  possessions,  a 
new  light  is  shed  upon  our  condition  when  we  measure 
it  by  God's  idea  and  God's  resources.  Is  my  life  God's 
ideal  ?     Does  that  which  satisfies  me  satisfy  Him  ? 

The  purpose  of  God's  present  appearance  to  Abram 
was  to  renew  the  covenant,  aiid  this  He  does  in  terms 
so  explicit,  so  pregnant,  so  magnificent  that  Abram 
must  have  seen  more  distinctly  than  ever  that  he  was 
called  to  play  a  very  spicial  part  in  God's  providence. 
That  kings  should  spring  from  him,  a  mere  pastoral 
nomad  in  an  alien  coun  ry,  could  not  suggest  itself  to 
Abram  as  a  likely  thing  to  happen.  Indeed,  though  a 
line  of  kings  or  two  lines  of  kings  did  spring  from  liim 
through  Isaac,  the  terms  of  the  prediction  seem  scarcely 
exhausted  by  that  fulfilment.  And  accordingly  Paul 
w  ithout  hesitation  or  reserve  transfers  this  prediction  to 
a  spiritual  region,  and  is  at  pains  to  show  that  the 
many  nations  of  whom  Abram  was  to  be  the  father, 
were  not  those  who  inherited  his  blood,  his  natural 
appearance,  his  language  and  earthly  inheritance,  but 
those  who  inherited  his  spiritual  qualities  and  the 
heritage  in  God  to  which  his  faith  gave  him  entrance. 


Gen.  xvii.]  THE   COVENANT  SEALED.  163 


And  he  argues  that  no  difference  of  race  or  dis- 
advantages of  worldly  position  can  prevent  any  man 
from  serving  himself  heir  to  Abram,  because  the  seed, 
to  whom  as  well  as  to  Abram  the  promise  was  made, 
was  Christ,  and  in  Christ  there  is  neither  Jew  nor 
Gentile,  bond  nor  free,  but  all  are  one. 

In  connection  then  with  this  covenant  in  which  God 
promised  that  He  would  be  a  God  to  Abram  and  to  his 
seed,  two  points  of  interest  to  us  emerge.  First  that 
Christ  is  Abram's  heir.  In  His  use  of  God's  promise 
we  see  its  full  significance.  In  His  life-long  appropria- 
tion of  God  we  see  what  God  meant  when  He  said,  "  I 
will  be  a  God  to  thee  and  to  thy  seed."  We  find  our 
Lord  from  the  first  living  as  one  who  felt  His  life  en- 
compassed by  God,  embraced  and  comprehended  in 
that  higher  hfe  which  God  lives  through  all  and  in  all. 
His  Hfe  was  all  and  whole  a  life  in  God.  He  recognised 
what  it  is  to  have  a  God,  one  Whose  will  is  supreme 
and  unerringly  good.  Whose  love  is  constant  and 
eternal.  Who  is  the  first  and  the  last,  beyond  Whom  and 
from  under  Whom  we  can  never  pass.  He  moved 
about  in  the  world  in  so  perfectly  harmonious  a  cor- 
respondence with  God,  so  merging  Himself  in  God  and 
His  purpose  and  with  so  unhesitating  a  reliance  upon 
Him,  that  He  seemed  and  was  but  a  manifestation  of 
God,  God's  will  embodied,  God's  child,  God  expressing 
Himself  in  human  nature.  He  showed  us  once  for  all 
the  blessedness  of  true  dependence,  fidelity  and  faith. 
He  showed  us  how  that  simple  promise  *  I  will  be  a 
God  to  thee,'  received  in  faith,  Hfts  the  human  life  into 
fellowship  with  all  that  is  hopeful  and  inspiring,  with 
all  that  is  purifying,  with  all  that  is  real  and  abiding. 

But  a  second  point  is,  that  Jesus  was  the  heir  cf 
Abram  not  merely  because  He  was  his  descendant,  a 


THE   BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


Jew  with  all  the  advantages  of  the  Jew,  but  because, 
like  Abram,  He  was  full  of  faith.  God  was  the  atmo- 
sphere of  His  life.  But  He  claimed  God  not  because  He 
was  Jewish,  but  because  He  was  human.  Through  the 
Jews  God  had  made  Himself  known,  but  it  was  to  what 
was  human  not  to  what  was  Jewish  He  appealed.  And 
it  was  as  Son  of  man  not  as  son  of  Israel  or  of  Adam 
that  Jesus  responded  to  God  and  lived  with  Him 
as  His  God.  Not  by  specially  Jewish  rites  did  Jesus 
approach  and  rest  in  God,  but  by  what  is  universal  and 
human,  by  prayer  to  the  Father,  by  loving  obedience, 
by  faith  and  submission.  And  thus  we  too  may  be 
joint-heirs  with  Christ  and  possess  God.  And  if  we 
think  of  ourselves  as  left  to  struggle  with  natural 
defects  amidst  irreversible  natural  laws  ;  if  we  begin  to 
pray  very  heartlessly,  as  if  He  who  once  listened  were 
now  asleep  or  could  do  nothing;  if  our  life  seems  pro- 
fitless, purposeless,  and  all  unhinged  ;  then  let  us  look 
back  to  this  sure  promise  of  God,  that  He  will  be  our 
God  :  our  God,  for,  if  Christ's  God,  then  ours,  for  if  we 
be  Christ's  then  are  we  Abram's  seed  and  heirs  accord- 
ing to  the  promise.  How  few  in  any  given  day  are 
living  on  this  promise  :  how  few  attach  reality  to  God's 
continuous  revelation  of  Himself,  the  reality  in  this 
world's  transitory  history  :  how  few  can  believe  in  the 
nearness  and  observance  and  love  of  God,  how  few  can 
strenuously  seek  to  be  holy  or  understand  where 
abiding  happiness  is  to  be  found  ;  for  all  these  things 
are  here.  Yet  who  knocks  at  this  door  ?  Who  makes, 
as  Christ  made,  his  life  a  unity  with  God,  undisma3'-ed, 
unmurmuruig,  unreluctant,  neither  fearful  of  God  nor 
disobedient,  but  diligent,  earnest,  jubilant,  because  God 
has  said,  "  I  will  be  thy  God."  Do  you  believe  these 
things    and   can  you   forbear  to  use  them  ?     Do  you 


Gen.  xvii.]  THE   COVENANT  SEALED.  165 

believe  that  it  is  open  to  you,  whosoever  you  are,  to 
have  the  Eternal  and  Supreme  God  for  your  God,  that 
He  may  use  all  His  Divine  nature  in  your  behalf;  have 
you  conceived  what  it  is  that  God  means  when  He 
extends  to  you  this  offer,  and  can  you  decline  to  accept 
it,  can  you  do  otherwise  than  cherish  it  and  seek  to 
find  more  and  more  in  it  every  day  you  live  ? 

Two  seals  were  at  this  time  affixed  to  the  covenant : 
the  one  for  Abram  himself,  the  other  for  every  one  who 
shared  with  him  in  his  blessings  of  the  covenant. 
The  first  consisted  in  the  change  of  his  own  name  to 
Abraham,  "  the  father  of  a  multitude,"  and  of  his  wife's 
to  Sarah,  "  princess  "  or  "  queen,"  because  she  was  now 
announced  as  the  destined  mother  of  kings.  And 
however  Abraham  would  be  annoyed  to  see  the  hardly 
surpressed  smile  on  the  ironical  faces  of  his  men  as  he 
boldly  commanded  them  to  call  him  by  a  name  whose 
verification  seemed  so  grievously  to  lag ;  and  however 
indignant  and  pained  he  may  have  been  to  hear  the 
young  Ishmael  jeering  Sarah  with  her  new  name,  and 
lending  to  it  every  tone  of  mockery  and  using  it  with 
insolent  frequency,  yet  Abraham  knew  that  these 
names  were  not  given  to  deceive ;  and  probably  as  the 
name  of  Abraham  has  become  one  of  the  best  known 
names  on  earth,  so  to  himself  did  it  quickly  acquire  a 
preciousness  as  God's  voice  abiding  with  him,  God's 
promise  renewed  to  him  through  every  man  that 
addressed  him,  until  at  length  the  child  of  promise 
lying  on  his  knees  took  up  its  first  syllable  and  called 
him  "Abba." 

This  seal  was  special  to  Abraham  and  Sarah,  the 
other  was  public.  All  who  desired  to  partake  with 
Abraham  in  the  security,  hope,  and  happiness  of 
having  God  as  their  God,  were  to  submit  to  circum- 


V 


i66  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

cision.  This  sign  was  to  determine  who  were  included 
in  the  covenant.  By  this  outward  mark  encouragement 
and  assurance  of  faith  were  to  be  quickened  in  the 
heart  of  all  Abraham's  descendants. 

The  mark  chosen  was  significant.  It  was  indeed 
not  distinctive  in  its  outward  form ;  so  little  so  that  at 
this  day  no  fewer  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  millions 
of  the  race  make  use  of  the  same  rite  for  one  purpose 
or  other.  All  the  descendants  of  Ishmael  of  course 
continue  it,  but  also  all  who  have  their  religion,  that  is, 
all  Mohammedans  ;  but  besides  these,  some  tribes  in 
South  America,  some  in  Australia,  some  in  the  South 
Sea  Islands,  and  a  large  number  of  Kaffir  tribes.  The 
ancient  Egyptians  certainly  practised  it,  and  it  has  been 
suggested  that  Abraham  may  have  become  acquainted 
with  the  practice  during  his  sojourn  in  Egypt.  It  is 
however  uncertain  whether  the  practice  in  Egypt  runs 
back  to  so  early  a  time.  If  it  were  an  established 
Egyptian  usage,  then  of  course  Hagar  would  demand 
for  her  boy  at  the  usual  age  the  rite  which  she  had 
always  associated  with  entrance  on  a  new  stage  of  hfe. 
But  even  supposing  this  was  the  case,  the  rite  was 
none  the  less  available  for  the  new  use  to  which  it  was 
now  put.  The  rainbow  existed  before  the  Flood  ;  bread 
and  wine  existed  before  the  night  of  the  Lord's  Supper ; 
baptisms  of  various  kinds  were  practised  before  the 
days  of  the  Apostles.  And  for  this  very  reason,  when 
God  desired  a  natural  emblem  of  the  stability  of  the 
seasons  He  chose  a  striking  feature  of  nature  on  which 
men  were  already  accustomed  to  look  with  pleasure 
and  hope  ;  when  He  desired  symbols  of  the  body  and 
blood  of  the  Redeemer  He  took  those  articles  which 
already  had  a  meaning  as  the  most  efficacious  human 
nutriment;  when  He  desired  to  represent  to  the    eye 


Gen.  xvii.]  THE   COVENANT  SEALED.  167 

the  renunciation  of  the  old  life  and  the  birth  to  a  new 
life  which  we  have  by  union  with  Christ,  He  took  that 
rite  which  was  already  known  as  the  badge  of  disciple- 
ship  ;  and  when  He  desired  to  impress  men  by  symbol 
with  the  impurity  of  nature  and  with  our  dependence 
on  God  for  the  production  of  all  acceptable  life,  He 
chose  that  rite  which,  whether  used  before  or  not,  did 
most  strikingly  represent  this. 

With  the  significance  of  circumcision  to  other  men 
who  practise  it,  we  have  here  nothing  to  do.  It  is  as 
the  chief  sacrament  of  the  old  covenant,  by  which  God 
meant  to  aid  all  succeeding  generations  of  Hebrews 
in  believing  that  God  was  their  God.  And  this  par- 
ticular mark  was  given,  rather  than  any  other,  that 
they  might  recognise  and  ever  remember  that  human 
nature  was  unable  to  generate  its  own  Saviour,  that 
in  man  there  is  a  native  impurity  which  must  be  laid 
aside  when  he  comes  into  fellowship  with  the  Holy 
God.  And  these  circumcised  races,  although  in  many 
respects  as  unspiritual  as  others,  have  yet  in  general 
perceived  that  God  is  different  from  nature,  a  Holy 
Being  to  Whom  we  cannot  attain  by  any  mere  adher- 
ence to  nature,  but  only  by  the  aid  He  Himself  extends 
to  us  in  ways  for  which  nature  makes  no  provision. 
The  lesson  of  circumcision  is  an  old  one  and  rudely 
expressed,  but  it  is  vital ;  and  no  abhorrence  of  the 
circumcised  for  the  uncircumcised  too  strongly,  how- 
ever unjustly,  emphasizes  the  distinction  that  actually 
subsists  between  those  who  believe  in  nature  and  those 
who  believe  in  God. 

The  lesson  is  old,  but  the  circumcision  of  the  heart 
to  which  the  outward  mark  pointed,  is  ever  required. 
That  is  the  true  seal  of  our  fellov/ship  with  God ;  the 
earnest  of  the  Spirit   which   gives   promise   of  eternal 


l68  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

union  with  the  Holy  One  ;  the  relentings,  the  shame, 
the  softening  of  heart,  the  adoration  and  reverence  for 
the  hohness  of  God,  the  thirst  for  Him,  the  joy  in  His 
goodness,  these  are  the  first  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  which 
lead  on  to  our  calling  God  Father,  and  feeling  that  to 
be  alone  with  Him  is  our  happiness.  It  is  this  putting 
aside  of  our  natural  confidence  in  nature  and  absorption 
in  nature,  and  this  turning  to  God  as  our  confidence 
and  our  life,  which  constitutes  the  true  circumcision  of 
the  heart. 

Believing  as  Abraham  was,  he  could  not  forbear 
smiling  when  God  said  that  Sarah  would  be  the  mother 
of  the  promised  seed.  This  incredulity  of  Abraham 
was  so  significant  that  it  was  commemiorated  in  the 
y/name  of  Isaac,  the  laugher.  This  heir  was  typical  of 
all  God's  best  gifts,  at  first  reckoned  impossible,  at 
last  filling  the  heart  with  gladness.  The  smile  of  in- 
credulity became  the  laughter  of  joy  when  the  child 
was  born  and  Sarah  said,  ' '  God  hath  made  me  to 
laugh,  so  that  all  that  hear  will  laugh  with  me."  It  is 
they  who  expect  things  so  incongruous  and  so  impos- 
sible to  nature  unaided  that  they  smile  even  while  they 
believe,  who  will  one  day  find  their  hopes  fulfilled  and 
their  hearts  running  over  with  joyful  laughter.  If 
your  heart  is  fixed  only  on  what  you  can  accomplish 
for  yourself,  no  great  joy  can  ever  be  yours.  But 
frame  3^our  actual  hopes  in  accordance  with  the  promise 
of  God,  expect  holiness,  fulness  of  joy,  animating  part- 
nership with  God  in  the  highest  matters,  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  dead,  the  life  everlasting,  and  one  day  you 
will  say,  "  God  hath  made  me  to  laugh."  But  Abraham 
prostrating  himself  to  hide  a  smile  is  the  symbol  of  pur 
common  attitude.  We  profess  to  believe  in  a  God  of  ■ 
unspeakable  power  and  goodness,  but  even  while  we 


Gen.  xvli.]  THE   COVENANT  SEALED.  169 

do  so  we  find  it  impossible  to  attach  a  sense  of  reality 
to  His  promises.  They  are  kindly,  well-intentioned 
words,  but  are  apparently  spoken  in  neglect  of  solid, 
obstinate  facts.  How  hard  is  it  for  us  to  learn  that 
God  is  the  great  reality,  and  that  the  reality  of  all 
else  may  be  measured  by  its  relation  to   Him. 

Sarah's  laughter  had  a  different  meaning.  Indeed 
Sarah  does  not  appear  to  have  been  by  any  means 
a  blameless  character.  Her  conduct  towards  Hagar 
showed  us  that  she  was  a  woman  capable  of  generous 
impulses  but  not  of  the  strain  of  continued  magnani- 
mous conduct.  She  was  capable  of  yielding  her  wifely 
rights  on  the  impulse  of  the  brilliant  scheme  that  had 
struck  her,  but  like  many  other  persons  who  can  begin 
a  magnanimous  or  generous  course  of  conduct,  she 
could  not  follow  it  up  to  the  end,  but  failed  disgracefully 
in  her  conduct  towards  her  rival.  So  now  again  she 
betrays  characteristic  weakness.  When  the  strangers 
came  to  Abraham's  tent,  and  announced  that  she  was 
to  become  a  mother,  she  smiled  in  superior,  self-assured, 
woman's  wisdom.  When  the  promise  threatened  no 
longer  to  hover  over  her  household  as  a  mere  sublime 
and  exalting  idea  which  serves  its  purpose  if  it  keep 
them  in  mind  that  God  has  spoken  to  them,  but  to  take 
place  now  among  the  actualities  of  daily  occurrence, 
she  hails  this  announcement  with  a  laugh  of  total 
incredulity.  Whatever  she  had  made  of  God's  word, 
she  had  not  thought  it  was  really  and  veritably  to  come 
to  pass ;  she  smiled  at  the  simplicity  which,  could  speak 
of  such  an  unheard-of  thing. 

This  is  true  to  human  nature.  It  reminds  you  how 
you  have  dealt  with  God's  promises, — nay,  with  Gcd's 
commandments — when  they  offered  to  make  room  for 
themselves    in    the   everyday    life    of  which   you    are 


I70  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

masters,  every  detail  of  which  you  have  arranged, 
seeming  to  know  absolutely  the  laws  and  principles 
on  which  your  particular  line  of  life  must  be  caiTied 
on.  Have  you  never  smiled  at  the  simplicity  which 
could  set  about  making  actual,  about  carrying  out  in 
practical  life,  in  society,  in  work,  in  business,  those 
thoughts,  feelings  and  purposes,  which  God's  promises 
beget  ?  Sarah  did  not  laugh  outright,  but  smiled  behind 
the  Lord ;  she  did  not  mock  Him  to  His  face,  but  let 
the  compassionate  expression  pass  over  her  face  with 
which  we  listen  to  the  glowing  hopes  of  the  young 
enthusiast  who  does  not  know  the  world.  Have  we 
not  often  put  aside  God's  voice  precisely  thus  ;  saying 
within  us,  We  know  what  kind  of  things  can  be  done 
by  us  and  others  and  what  need  not  be  attempted  ; 
we  know  what  kind  of  frailties  in  social  intercourse 
we  must  put  up  with,  and  not  seek  to  amend  ;  what 
kind  of  practices  it  is  vain  to  think  of  abolishing ;  we 
know  what  use  to  make  of  God's  promise  and  what 
use  not  to  make  of  it ;  how  far  to  trust  it,  and  how  far 
to  give  greater  weight  to  our  knowledge  of  the  world 
and  our  natural  prudence  and  sense  ?  Does  not  our 
faith,  like  Sarah's,  vary  in  proportion  as  the  promise 
to  be  believed  is  unpractical  ?  If  the  promise  seems 
wholly  to  concern  future  things,  we  cordially  and 
devoutly  assent ;  but  if  we  are  asked  to  believe  that 
God  intends  within  the  year  to  do  so-and-so,  if  we 
are  asked  to  believe  that  the  result  of  God's  promise 
will  be  found  taking  a  substantial  place  among  the 
results  of  our  own  efforts — then  the  derisive  smile  of 
Sarah  forms  on  our  face. 

To  look  at  the  crowds  of  persons  professing  religion, 
one  would  suppose  nothing  was  comnioner  than  laith. 
There    is    nothing    rarer.       Devoutness    is    commcn ; 


Gen.  xvii.]  THE   COVENANT  SEALED.  171 

righteousness  of  life  is  common  ;  a  contempt  for  every 
kind  of  fraud  and  underhand  practice  is  common  ;  a 
highminded  disregard  for  this  world's  gains  and  glories 
is  common  ;  an  abhorrence  of  sensuality  and  an 
earnest  thirst  for  perfection  are  common — but  faith  ? 
Will  the  Son  of  man  when  He  comes  find  it  on  earth  ? 
May  not  the  messengers  of  God  yet  say,  Who  hath 
believed  our  report  ?  Why,  the  great  majority  of  Chris- 
tian people  have  never  been-  near  enough  to  spiritual 
things  to  know  whether  they  are  or  are  not,  they  have 
never  narrowly  weighed  spiritual  issues  and  trembled 
as  they  watched  the  uncertain  balance,  they  say  they 
believe  God  and  a  future  of  happiness  because  they 
really  do  not  know  what  they  are  talking  about — they 
have  not  measured  the  magnitude  of  these  things. 
Faith  is  not  a  blind  and  careless  assent  to  matters  of 
indifference,  faith  is  not  a  state  of  mental  suspense 
with  a  hope  that  things  may  turn  out  to  be  as  the  Bible 
says.  '  Faith  is  the  firm  persuasion  that  these  things 
are  so.  And  he  who  at  once  knows  the  magnitude 
of  these  things  and  believes  that  they  are  so,  must  be 
filled  with  a  joy  that  makes  him  independent  of  the 
world,  with  an  enthusiasm  which  must  seem  to  the 
world  Hke  insanity.  It  is  quite  a  different  world  in 
which  the  man  of  faith  lives. 


XIV. 

ABRAHAM'S  INTERCESSION  FOR  SODOM. 
Genesis  xviii. 

THE  scene  with  which  this  chapter  opens  is  one 
familiar  to  the  observ'er  of  nomad  life  in  the  East. 
During  the  scorching  heat  and  glaring  light  of  noon, 
while  the  birds  seek  the  densest  foliage  and  the  wild 
animals  lie  panting  in  the  thicket  and  everything  is 
still  and  silent  as  midnight,  Abraham  sits  in  his  tent 
door  under  the  spreading  oak  of  Mamre.  Listless, 
languid,  and  dreamy  as  he  is,  he  is  at  once  aroused 
into  brightest  wakefulness  by  the  sudden  apparition  of 
three  strangers.  Remarkable  as  their  appearance  no 
doubt  must  have  been,  it  would  seem  that  Abraham 
did  not  recognise  the  rank  of  his  visitors ;  it  was,  as 
the  writer  to  the  Hebrews  says,  "  unawares "  that  he 
entertained  angels.  But  when  he  saw  them  stand  as 
if  inviting  invitation  to  rest,  he  treated  them  as  hos- 
pitality required  him  to  treat  any  wayfarers.  He 
sprang  to  his  feet,  ran  and  bowed  himself  to  the 
ground,  and  begged  them  to  rest  and  eat  with  him. 
With  the  extraordinary,  and  as  it  seems  to  our  colder 
nature  extravagant  courtesy  of  an  Oriental,  he  rates 
at  the  very  lowest  the  comforts  he  can  supply  ;  it  is 
only  a  little  water  he  can  give  to  wash  their  feet,  a 
morsel  of  bread  to  help  them  on  their  way,  but  they 


Gen.xviii.]  ABRAHAM'S  INTERCESSION  FOR  SODOM.     173 

will  do  him  a  kindness  if  they  accept  these  small 
attentions  at  his  hands.  He  gives,  however,  much 
more  than  he  offered,  seeks  out  the  fatted  calf  and 
serves  while  his  guests  sit  and  eat.  The  whole  scene 
is  primitive  and  Oriental,  and  "  presents  a  perfect 
picture  of  the  manner  in  which  a  modern  Bedawee 
Slieykh  receives  travellers  arriving  at  his  encamp- 
ment ;  "  the  hasty  baking  of  bread,  the  celebration  of 
a  guest's  arrival  by  the  killing  of  animal  food  not  on 
other  occasions  used  even  by  large  flock-masters ;  the 
meal  spread  in  the  open  air,  the  black  tents  of  the 
encampment  stretching  back  among  the  oaks  of  Mamre, 
every  available  space  filled  with  sheep,  asses,  camels, — 
the  whole  is  one  of  those  clear  pictures  which  only 
the  simplicity  of  primitive  life  can  produce. 

Not  only,  however,  as  a  suitable  and  pretty  intro- 
duction which  may  ensure  our  reading  the  subsequent 
narrative  is  it  recorded  how  hospitably  Abraham 
received  these  three.  Later  writers  saw  in  it  a  picture 
of  the  beauty  and  reward  of  hospicality.  It  is  very 
true,  indeed,  that  the  circumstances  of  a  wandering 
pastoral  life  are  peculiarly  favourable  to  the  cultivation 
of  this  grace.  Travellers  being  the  only  bringers  of 
tidings  are  greeted  from  a  selfish  desire  to  hear  news 
as  well  as  from  better  motives.  Life  in  tents,  too,  of 
necessity  makes  men  freer  in  their  manners.  They 
have  no  door  to  lock,  no  inner  rooms  to  retire  to,  their 
life  is  spent  outside,  and  their  character  naturally 
inclines  to  frankness  and  freedom  from  the  suspicions, 
fears,  and  restraints  of  city  life.  Especially  is  hos- 
pitality accounted  the  indispensable  virtue,  and  a 
breach  of  it  as  culpable  as  a  breach  of  the  sixth 
commandment,  because  to  refuse  hospitality  is  in 
many  regions  equivalent   to   subjecting  a  wayfarer  to 


174  "^HE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

dangers    and    hardships    under   which    he    is    almost 
certain  to  succumb. 

"  This  tent  is  mine,"  said  Yussouf,  "  but  no  more 
Than  it  is  God's  ;  come  in,  and  be  at  peace  ; 
Freely  slialt  tliou  partake  of  all  my  store, 
As  I  of  His  Who  buildcth  over  these 
Our  tents  His  glorious  roof  of  night  and  day, 
And  at  Whose  door  none  ever  yet  heard  Nay." 

Still  we  are  of  course  bound  to  import  into  our  life  all 
the  suggestions  of  kindly  conduct  which  any  other  style 
of  living  gives  us.  And  the  writer  to  the  Hebrews 
pointedly  refers  to  this  scene  and  says,  "Let  us  not 
be  forgetful  to  entertain  strangers,  for  thereby  some 
have  entertained  angels  unawares."  And  often  in 
quite  a  prosaic  and  unquestionable  manner  does  it 
become  apparent  to  a  host,  that  the  guest  he  has  been 
entertaining  has  been  sent  by  God,  an  angel  indeed 
ministering  to  his  salvation,  renewing  in  him  thoughts 
that  had  been  dying  out,  filling  his  home  with  bright- 
ness and  life  like  the  smile  of  God's  own  face,  calling 
out  kindly  feelings,  provoking  to  love  and  to  good 
works,  effectually  helping  him  onwards  and  making 
one  more  stage  of  his  life  endurable  and  even  blessed. 
And  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  our  Lord  Himself 
should  have  continually  inculcated  this  same  grace ; 
for  in  His  whole  life  and  by  His  most  painful  experi- 
ence were  men  being  tested  as  to  who  among  them 
would  take  the  stranger  in.  He  who  became  man  for 
a  little  that  He  might  for  ever  consecrate  the  dwelling 
of  Abraham  and  leave  a  blessing  in  his  household,  has 
now  become  man  for  evermore,  that  we  may  learn  to 
walk  carefully  and  reverentially  through  a  life  whose 
circumstances  and  conditions,  whose  little  socialities  and 
duties,  and  whose  great  trials   and   strains   He  found 


Gen.xviii.]  ABRAHAM'S  INTERCESSION  FOR  SODOM.     175 

fit  for  Himself  for  service  to  the  Father.  This  taber- 
nacle of  our  human  body  has  by  His  presence  been 
transformed  from  a  tent  to  a  temple,  and  this  world 
and  all  its  ways  that  He  approved,  admired,  and  walked 
in,  is  holy  ground.  But  as  He  came  to  Abraham  trust- 
ing to  his  hospitality,  not  sending  before  him  a  legion 
of  angels  to  awe  the  patriarch  but  coming  in  the  guise 
of  an  ordinary  wayfarer ;  so  did  He  come  to  His  own 
and  make  His  entrance  among  us,  claiming  only  the 
consideration  which  He  claims  for  the  least  of  His 
people,  and  granting  to  whoever  gave  Him  tliat  the 
discovery  of  His  Divine  nature.  Had  there  been 
ordinary  hospitality  in  Bethlehem  that  night  before 
the  taxing,  then  a  woman  in  Mary's  condition  had 
been  cared  for  and  not  superciliously  thrust  among 
the  cattle,  and  our  race  had  been  delivered  from  the 
everlasting  reproach  of  refusing  its  God  a  cradle  to  be 
born  and  sleep  His  first  sleep  in,  as  it  refused  Him 
a  bed  to  die  in,  and  left  chance  to  provide  Him  a  grave 
in  which  to  sleep  His  latest  sleep.  And  still  He  is 
coming  to  us  all  requiring  of  us  this  grace  of  hospitality, 
not  only  in  the  case  of  every  one  who  asks  of  us  a  cup 
of  cold  water  and  whom  our  Lord  Himself  will  per- 
sonate at  the  last  day  and  say,  "/was  a  stranger  and  ye 
took  Me  in  ; "  but  also  in  regard  to  those  claims  upon  our 
heart's  reception  which  He  onlyin  His  own  person  makes. 
But  while  we  are  no  doubt  justified  in  gathering  such 
lessons  from  this  scene,  it  can  scarcely  have  been  for 
the  sake  of  inculcating  hospitality  that  these  angels 
visited  Abraham.  And  if  we  ask,  Why  did  God  on 
this  occasion  use  this  exceptional  form  of  manifesting 
Himself;  why,  instead  of  approaching  Abraham  in  a 
vision  or  in  word  as  had  been  found  sufficient  on 
former  occasions,   did    He  now   adopt   this  method  of 


175  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

becoming  Abraham's  guest  and  eating  with  him  ? — the 
only  apparent  reason  is  that  He  meant  this  also  to  be 
the  test  appHed  to  Sodom.  There  too  His  angels  were 
to  appear  as  wayfarers,  dependent  on  the  hospitality  of 
the  town,  and  by  the  people's  treatment  of  these 
unknown  visitors  their  moral  state  was  to  be  detected 
and  judged.  The  peaceful  meal  under  the  oaks  of 
Mamre,  the  quiet  and  confidential  walk  over  the  hills 
m  the  afternoon  when  Abraham  in  the  humble  simplicity 
of  a  godly  soul  was  found  to  be  fit  company  for  these 
three — this  scene  where  the  Lord  and  His  messengers 
receive  a  becoming  welcome  and  where  they  leave  only 
blessing  behind  them,  is  set  in  telling  contrast  to  their 
reception  in  Sodom,  where  their  coming  was  the  signal 
for  the  outburst  of  a  brutality  one  blushes  to  think  of, 
and  elicited  all  the  elements  of  a  mere  hell  upon  earth. 

Lot  would  fain  have  been  as  hospitable  as  Abraham. 
Deeper  in  his  nature  than  any  other  consideration  was 
the  traditional  habit  of  hospitality.  To  this  he  would 
have  sacrificed  everything — the  rights  of  strangers  were 
to  him  truly  inviolable.  Lot  was  a  man  who  could  as 
little  see  strangers  without  inviting  them  to  his  house  as 
Abraham  could.  He  would  have  treated  them  hand- 
somely as  his  uncle ;  and  what  he  could  do  he  did.  But 
Lot  had  by  his  choice  of  a  dwelling  made  it  impossible  he 
should  afford  safe  and  agreeable  lodging  to  any  visitor. 
He  did  his  best,  and  it  was  not  his  reception  of  the 
angels  that  sealed  Sodom's  doom,  and  yet  what  shame 
he  must  have  felt  that  he  had  put  himself  in  circum- 
stances in  which  his  chief  virtue  could  not  be  practised. 
So  do  men  tie  their  own  hands  and  cripple  themselves 
so  that  even  the  good  they  would  take  pleasure  in 
doing  is  either  wholly  impossible  or  turns  to  evil. 

In   divulging   to   Abraham    His   purpose   in    visiting 


Gen.  xviii.]  ABRAHAM'S  INTERCESSION  FOR  SODOM.     177 

Sodom,  it  is  enounced  here  that  God  acted  on  a  prin- 
ciple which  seems  afterwards  to  have  become  ahiiost 
proverbial.  Surely  the  Lord  will  do  nothing  but  He 
revealeth  His  secret  unto  His  servants  the  prophets. 
There  are  indeed  two  grounds  stated  for  making 
known  to  Abraham  this  catastrophe.  The  reason  that 
we  should  naturally  expect,  viz.  that  he  might  go  on 
and  warn  Lot  is  not  one  of  them.  Why  then  make 
any  announcement  to  Abraham  if  the  catastrophe  cannot 
be  averted,  and  if  Abraham  is  to  turn  back  to  his  own 
encampment  ?  The  first  reason  is  :  "  Shall  I  hide  from 
Abraham  that  thing  which  I  do  ?  Seeing  that  Abraham 
shall  surely  become  a  great  and  mighty  nation,  and  all 
the  nations  of  the  earth  shall  be  blessed  in  him."  In 
other  words,  Abraham  has  been  made  the  depository  of 
a  blessing  for  all  nations,  and  account  must  therefore 
be  given  to  him  when  any  people  is  summarily  removed 
beyond  the  possibility  of  receiving  this  blessing.  If  a 
man  has  got  a  grant  for  the  emancipation  of  the  slaves 
in  a  certain  district,  and  is  informed  on  landing  to  put 
this  grant  in  force  that  fifty  slaves  are  to  be  executed 
that  day,  he  has  certainly  a  right  to  know  and  he  will 
inevitably  desire  to  know  that  this  execution  is  to  be, 
and  why  it  is  to  be.  When  an  officer  goes  to  negotiate 
an  exchange  of  prisoners,  if  two  of  the  number  cannot 
be  exchanged,  but  are  to  be  shot,  he  must  be  informed 
of  this  and  account  of  the  matter  must  be  given  him. 
Abraham  often  brooding  on  God's  promise,  living  indeed 
upon  it,  must  have  felt  a  vague  sympathy  with  all  men, 
and  a  S3'mpathy  not  at  all  vague,  but  most  powerful 
and  practical  with  the  men  in  the  Jordan  valley  whom 
he  had  rescued  from  Chedorlaomer.  If  he  was  to  be 
a  blessing  to  any  nation  it  must  surely  be  to  those  who 
were  within  an  afternoon's  walk  of  his  encampment 

12 


178  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

and  among  whom  his  nephew  had  taken  up  his  abode. 
Suppose  he  had  not  been  told,  but  had  risen  next 
morning  and  seen  the  dense  cloud  of  smoke  overhang- 
ing the  doomed  cities,  might  he  not  with  some  justice 
have  complained  that  although  God  had  spoken  to  him 
the  previous  day,  not  one  word  of  this  great  catastrophe 
had  been  breathed  to  him. 

The  second  reason  is  expressed  in  the  nineteenth 
verse ;  God  had  chosen  Abraham  that  he  might  com- 
mand his  children  and  his  household  after  him  to  keep 
the  way  of  the  Lord,  to  do  justice  and  judgment  that  the 
Lord  might  fulfil  His  promise  to  Abraham.  That  is  to 
say,  as  it  was  only  by  obedience  and  righteousness  that 
Abraham  and  his  seed  were  to  continue  in  God's  favour, 
it  was  fair  that  they  should  be  encouraged  to  do  so  by 
seeing  the  fruits  of  unrighteousness.  So  that  as  the  Dead 
Sea  lay  throughout  their  whole  history  on  their  borders 
reminding  them  of  the  wages  of  sin,  they  might  never 
fail  rightly  to  interpret  its  meaning,  and  in  every  great 
catastrophe  read  the  lesson  "except  ye  repent  ye  shall 
all  likewise  perish."  They  could  never  attribute  to 
chance  this  predicted  judgment.  And  in  point  of  fact 
frequent  and  solemn  reference  was  made  to  this  stand- 
ing monument  of  the  fruit  of  sin. 

As  yet  there  was  no  moral  law  proclaimed  by  any 
external  authority.  Abraham  had  to  discover  what 
justice  and  goodness  were  from  the  dictates  of  his  own 
conscience  and  from  his  observation  upon  men  and 
things.  But  he  was  at  all  events  persuaded  that  only 
so  long  as  he  and  his  sought  honestly  to  live  in  what 
they  considered  to  be  righteousness  would  they  enjoy 
Gcd's  favour.  And  they  read  in  the  destruction  of 
Sodom  a  clear  intimation  that  certain  forms  of  wicked- 
ness were  detestable  to  God. 


Gen.xviii.]  ABRAHAM'S  INTERCESSWiV  FOR  SODOM.     179 

The  earnestness  with  which  Abraham  intercedes  for 
the  cities  of  the  plain  reveals  a  new  side  of  his  cha- 
racter. One  could  understand  a  strong  desire  on  his 
part  that  Lot  should  be  rescued,  and  no  doubt  the  pre- 
servation of  Lot  formed  one  of  his  strongest  motives  to 
intercede,  yet  Lot  is  never  named,  and  it  is,  I  think, 
plain  that  he  had  more  than  the  safety  of  Lot  in  view. 
He  prayed  that  the  city  might  be  spared,  not  that  the 
righteous  might  be  delivered  out  of  its  ruin.  Probably 
he  had  a  lively  interest  in  the  people  he  had  rescued 
from  captivity,  and  felt  a  kind  of  protectorate  over  them 
as  he  sometimes  looked  down  on  them  from  the  hills 
near  his  own  tents.  He  pleads  for  them  as  he  had 
fought  for  them,  with  generosity,  boldness  and  per- 
severance ;  and  it  was  his  boldness  and  unselfishness 
in  fighting  for  them  that  gave  him  boldness  in  praying 
for  them. 

There  has  come  into  vogue  in  this  country  a  kind 
of  intercession  which  is  the  exact  reverse  of  this  of 
Abraham — an  obtuse,  mechanical  intercession  about 
whose  efficacy  one  may  cherish  a  reasonable  suspicion. 
The  Bible  and  common  sense  bid  us  pray  with  the 
Spirit  and  with  the  understanding;  but  at  some  meet- 
ings for  prayer  you  are  asked  to  pray  for  people  you  do 
not  know  and  have  no  real  interest  in.  You  are  not  told 
even  their  names,  so  that  if  an  answer  is  sent  you  could 
not  identify  the  answer,  nor  is  any  clue  given  you  by 
which  if  God  should  propose  to  use  you  for  their  help  you 
could  know  where  the  help  was  to  be  applied.  For  all 
you  know  the  slip  of  paper  hcinded  in  among  a  score 
of  others  may  misrepresent  the -:ircumstances;  and  even 
supposing  it  does  not,  what  likeness  to  the  effectual 
fervent  prayer  of  an  anxious  man  has  the  petition  that 
IS  once  read  in  your  hearing  and  at  once  and  for  ever 


rSo  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

blotted  from  your  mind  by  a  dozen  others  of  the  same 
kind.  Not  so  did  Abraham  pray  :  he  prayed  for  those 
he  knew  and  had  fought  for ;  and  I  see  no  warrant  for 
expecting  that  our  prayers  will  be  heard  for  persons 
whose  good  we  seek  in  no  other  way  than  prayer,  in 
none  of  those  ways  which  in  all  other  matters  our 
conduct  proves  we  judge  more  effectual  than  prayer. 
When  Lot  was  carried  captive  Abraham  did  not  think  it 
enough  to  put  a  petition  for  him  in  his  evening  prayer. 
He  went  and  did  the  needful  thing,  so  that  now  when 
there  is  nothing  else  he  can  do  but  pray,  he  intercedes, 
as  few  of  us  can  without  self-reproach  or  feeling  that 
had  we  only  done  our  part  there  might  now  be  no  need 
of  prayer.  What  confidence  can  a  parent  have  in 
praying  for  a  son  who  is  going  to  a  country  where  vice 
abounds,  if  he  has  done  little  or  nothing  to  infix  in  his 
boy's  mind  a  love  of  virtue  ?  In  some  cases  the  very 
persons  who  pray  for  others  are  themselves  the  obstacles 
preventing  the  answer.  Were  we  to  ask  ourselves  how 
much  we  are  prepared  to  do  for  those  for  whom  we 
pray,  we  should  come  to  a  more  adequate  estimate  of 
the  fervency  and  sincerity  of  our  prayers. 

The  element  in  Abraham's  intercession  that  jars  on 
the  reader  is  the  trading  temper  that  strives  always  to 
get  the  best  possible  terms.  Abraham  seems  to  think 
God  can  be  beaten  down  and  induced  to  m.ake  smaller 
and  smaller  demands.  No  doubt  this  style  of  prayer 
was  suggested  to  Abraham  by  the  statement  on  God's 
part  that  He  was  going  to  Sodom  to  see  if  its  iniquity 
was  so  great  as  it  was  reported  ;  that  is,  to  number, 
as  it  were,  the  righteous  men  in  it.  Abraham  seizes 
upon  this  and  asks  if  He  would  not  spare  it  if  fifty 
were  found  in  it.  But  Abraham  knowing  Sodom  as 
he  did  could  not  have  supposed  this  number  would  be 


Gen.  xviii.]  ABRAHAM'S  INTERCESSION  EOR  SODOM.     iSi 

found.  Finding,  then,  that  God  meets  him  so  far,  he 
goes  on  step  by  step  getting  larger  in  his  demands, 
until  when  he  comes  to  ten  he  feels  that  to  go  farther 
would  be  intolerably  presumptuous.  Along  with  this 
audacious  beating  down  of  God,  there  is  a  genuine 
and  profound  reverence  and  humiUty  which  at  each 
renewal  of  the  petition  dictate  some  such  expression 
as  :  "I  who  am  but  dust  and  ashes,"  "  Let  not  my  Lord 
be  angry." 

It  is  remarkable  too  that,  throughout,  it  is  for 
justice  Abraham  pleads,  and  for  justice  of  a  limited 
and  imperfect  kind.  He  proceeds  on  the  assumption 
that  the  town  will  be  judged  as  a  town,  and  either 
wholly  saved  or  wholly  destroyed.  He  has  no  idea 
of  individual  discrimination  being  made,  those  only 
suffering  who  had  sinned.  And  yet  it  is  this  prin- 
ciple of  discrimination  on  which  God  ultimately  pro- 
ceeds, rescuing  Lot.  Yet  is  not  this  intercession  the 
history  of  what  every  one  who  prays  passes  through, 
beginning  with  the  idea  that  God  is  to  be  won  over 
to  more  liberal  views  and  a  more  munificent  intention, 
and  ending  with  the  discovery  that  God  gives  what 
we  should  count  it  shameless  audacity  to  ask  ?  We 
begin  to  pray, 

*'  As  if  ourselves  were  better  certainly 
Than  what  we  come  to — Maker  and  High  Priest" 

and  we  leave  off  praying  assured  that  the  whole  is  to 
be  managed  by  a  righteousness  and  love  and  wisdom, 
which  we  cannot  plan  for,  which  any  love  or  desire 
of  ours  would  only  limit  the  action  of,  and  which 
must  be  left  to  work  out  its  own  purposes  in  its  own 
marvellous  wa3'S.  We  begin,  feeling  that  we  have  to 
beat  down  a  reluctant  God  and  that  we  can  guide  the 


1 82  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

mind  of  God  to  some  better  thing  than  He  intends  : 
when  the  answer  comes  we  recognise  that  what  we 
set  as  the  hmit  of  our  expectation  God  has  far  over- 
stepped, and  that  our  prayer  has  done  little  more  than 
show  our  inadequate  conception  of  God's  mercy. 

Not  only  in  this  respect  but  throughout  this  chapter 
there  is  betrayed  an  inadequate  conception  of  God. 
The  language  is  adapted  to  the  use  of  men  who  are 
as  yet  unable  to  conceive  of  one  Infinite,  Eternal  Spirit. 
They  think  of  Him  as  one  who  needs  to  come  down 
and  institute  an  inquiry  into  the  state  of  Sodom,  if 
He  is  to  know  with  accuracy  the  moral  condition  of 
its  inhabitants.  We  can  freely  use  the  same  language, 
but  we  put  into  it  a  meaning  that  the  words  do  not 
literally  bear  :  Abraham  and  his  contemporaries  used  and 
accepted  the  words  in  their  Hteral  sense.  And  yet  the 
man  who  had  ideas  of  God  in  some  respects  so  rudimen- 
tary was  God's  Friend,  received  singular  tokens  of 
His  favour,  found  His  whole  life  illuminated  with  His 
presence,  and  was  used  as  the  point  of  contact  between 
heaven  and  earth,  so  that  if  you  desire  the  first  lessons 
in  the  knowledge  of  God  which  will  in  time  grow  into 
full  information,  it  is  to  the  tent  of  Abraham,  you  must 
go.  This  surely  is  encouraging ;  for  who  is  not  con- 
scious of  much  difficulty  in  thinking  rightly  of  God  ? 
Who  does  not  feel  that  precisely  here,  where  the  light 
should  be  brightest,  clouds  and  darkness  seem  to  gather  ? 
It  may  indeed  be  said  that  what  was  excusable  in 
Abraham  is  inexcusable  in  us ;  that  we  have  that  day, 
that  full  noon  of  Christ  to  which  he  could  only,  out 
of  the  dusky  dawn,  look  forward.  But  after  all  may 
not  a  man  with  some  justice  say  :  Give  me  an  afternoon 
with  God,  such  as  Abraham  had ;  give  me  the  oppor- 
tunity of  converse  with  a  God  submitting  Himself  to 


Gen.  xviii.]  ABRAHAM'S  INTERCESSION  FOR  SODORI.     183 

question  and  answer,  to  those  means  and  instruments 
of  ascertaining  truth  which  I  daily  employ  in  other 
matters,  and  I  will  ask  no  more  ?  Christ  has  given  us 
entrance  into  the  final  stage  of  our  knowledge  of  God, 
teaching  us  that  God  is  a  Spirit  and  that  we  cannot 
see  the  Father ;  that  Christ  Himself  left  earth  and 
withdrew  from  the  bodily  eye  that  we  might  rely  more 
upon  spiritual  modes  of  apprehension  and  think  of  God 
as  a  Spirit.  But  we  are  not  at  all  times  able  to  receive 
this  teaching,  we  are  children  still  and  fall  back  with 
longing  for  the  times  when  God  walked  and  spoke  with 
man.  And  this  being  so,  we  are  encouraged  by  the 
experience  of  Abraham.  We  shall  not  be  disowned 
by  God  though  we  do  not  know  Him  perfectly.  We 
can  but  begin  where  we  are,  not  pretending  that  that 
is  clear  and  certain  to  us  which  in  fact  is  not  so,  but 
freely  dealing  with  God  according  to  the  light  we  have, 
hoping  that  we  too,  like  Abraham,  shall  see  the  day 
of  Christ  and  be  glad ;  shall  one  day  stand  in  the  full 
light  of  ascertained  and  eternal  truth,  knowing  as  we 
are  known. 

In  conclusion,  we  shall  find  when  we  read  the  follow- 
ing chapter,  and  especially  the  prayer  of  Lot  that  he 
might  not  be  driven  to  the  wild  mountain  district,  but 
might  occupy  the  little  town  of  Zoar  which  was  saved 
for  his  sake — we  shall  find,  that  much  light  is  reflected 
on  this  prayer  of  Abraham.  Without  trenching  on  what 
may  be  more  fitly  spoken  of  afterwards,  it  may  now  be 
observed  that  the  difference  between  Lot  and  Abraham, 
as  between  man  and  man  generally,  comes  out  nowhere 
moie  strikingly  than  in  their  prayers.  Abraham  had 
never  prayed  for  himself  with  a  tithe  of  the  persistent 
earnestness  with  which  he  prays  for  Sodom — a  town 
which  was  much  indebted  to  him,  but  towards  which 


i84  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

for  more  reasons  than  one  a  smaller  man  would  have 
borne  a  grudge.  Lot,  on  the  other  hand,  much  indebted 
to  Sodom,  identified  indeed  with  it,  one  of  its  leading 
citizens,  connected  by  marriage  with  its  inhabitants,  is 
in  no  agony  about  its  destruction,  and  has  indeed  but 
one  prayer  to  offer,  and  that  is,  that  when  all  his  fellow- 
townsmen  are  destroyed,  he  may  be  comfortably  provided 
for.  While  the  men  he  has  bargained  and  feasted  with, 
the  men  he  has  made  money  out  of  and  married  his 
daughters  to,  are  in  the  agonies  of  an  appalling  cata- 
strophe and  so  near  that  the  smoke  of  their  torment 
sweeps  across  his  retreat,  he  is  so  disengaged  from 
regrets  and  compassion  that  he  can  nicely  weigh  the 
comparative  comfort  and  advantage  of  city  and  rural 
life.  One  would  have  thought  better  of  the  man  if  he 
had  declined  the  angelic  rescue  and  resolved  to  stand 
by  those  in  death  whose  society  he  had  so  coveted  in 
life.  And  it  is  significant  that  while  the  generous, 
large-hearted,  devout  pleading  of  Abraham  is  in  vain, 
the  miserable,  timorous,  selfish  petition  of  Lot  is  heard 
and  answered.  It  would  seem  as  if  sometimes  God 
were  hopeless  of  men,  and  threw  to  them  in  contempt 
the  gifts  they  crave,  giving  them  the  poor  stations  in 
this  life  their  ambition  is  set  upon,  because  He  sees 
they  have  made  themselves  incapable  of  enduring  hard- 
ness, and  so  quelling  their  lower  nature*  An  answered 
prayer  is  not  always  a  blessing,  sometimes  it  is  a  doom  : 
"  He  sent  them  meat  to  the  full :  but  while  their  meat 
was  yet  in  their  mouths,  the  wrath  of  God  came  upon 
them  and  slew  the  fattest  of  them." 

Probably  had  Lot  felt  any  inclination  to  pray  for 
his  townsmen  he  would  have  seen  that  for  him  to  do 
so  would  be  unseemly.  His  circumstances,  his  long 
association  with  the  Sodomites,  and  his  accommodation 


Gen.xviii.]  ABRAHAM'S  INTERCESSION  FOR  SODOM.     1S5 

of  himself  to  their  ways  had  both  eaten  the  soul  out  of 
him  and  set  him  on  quite  a  different  footing  towards 
God  from  that  occupied  by  Abraham,  A  man  cannot 
on  a  sudden  emergency  lift  himself  out  of  the  circum- 
stances in  which  he  has  been  rooted,  nor  peel  off  his 
character  as  if  it  were  only  skin  deep.  Abraham  had 
been  living  an  unworldly  life  in  which  intercourse  with 
God  was  a  familiar  employment.  His  prayer  was  but 
the  seasonable  flower  of  his  life,  nourished  to  all  its 
beauty  by  the  habitual  nutriment  of  past  years.  Lot 
in  his  need  could  only  utter  a  peevish,  pitiful,  childish 
cry.  He  had  aimed  all  his  life  at  being  conxfortable, 
he  could  not  now  wish  anything  more  than  to  be  com- 
fortable. "  Stand  out  of  my  sunshine,"  was  ali  he  could 
say,  when  he  held  by  the  hand  the  plenipotentiary  of 
heaven,  and  when  the  roar  of  the  conflict  of  moral  good 
and  evil  was  filling  his  ears — a  decent  man,  a  righteous 
man,  but  the  world  had  eaten  out  his  heart  till  he  hr-d 
nothing  to  keep  him  in  S3^mpathy  with  heaven. 

Such  is  the  state  to  which  men  in  our  society,  as 
in  Sodom,  are  brought  by  risking  their  spiritual  life 
to  make  the  most  of  this  world.  * 


XV. 

DESTRUCTION   OF    THE    CITIES    OF    THE  PLAIN. 
Genesis    xix. 

WHILE  Abraham  was  pleading  with  the  Lord 
the  angels  were  pursuing  their  way  to  Sodom. 
And  in  doing  so  they  apparently  observed  the  laws 
of  those  human  forms  which  they  had  assumed.  They 
did  not  spread  swift  wings  and  alight  early  in  the 
afternoon  at  the  gates  of  the  city ;  but  taking  the  usual 
route,  they  descended  from  the  hills  which  separated 
Abraham's  encampment  from  the  plain  of  the  Jordan, 
and  as  the  sun  was  setting  reached  their  destination. 
In  the  deep  recess  which  is  found  at  either  side  of  the 
gateway  of  an  Eastern  city,  Lot  had  taken  his  accus- 
tomed seat.  Wearied  and  vexed  with  the  din  of  the 
revellers  in  the  street,  and  oppressed  with  the  sultry 
doom-laden  atmosphere,  he  Vv'as  looking  out  towards 
the  cool  and  peaceful  hills,  purple  with  the  sinking  sun 
behind  them,  and  letting  his  thoughts  first  follow  and 
then  outrun  his  eye ;  he  was  now  picturing  and  longing 
for  the  unseen  tents  of  Abraham,  and  almost  hearing 
the  cattle  lowing  round  at  evening  and  all  the  old 
sounds  his  youth  had  made  familiar. 

He  is  recalled  to  the  actual  present  by  the  footfall 
of  the  two  men,  and  little  knowing  the  significance 
of  his  act,  invites  them  to  spend  the  night  under  his 


Gen.  xix.]  THE   CITIES  OF  THE  PLAIN.  187 

roof.  It  has  been  observed  that  the  historian  seems 
to  intend  to  bring  out  the  quietness  and  the  ordinary 
appearance  of  the  entire  circumstances.  All  goes  on 
as'  usual.  There  is  nothing  in  the  setting  sun  to  say 
that  for  the  last  time  it  has  shone  on  these  rich 
meadows,  or  that  in  twelve  hours  its  rising  will  be 
dimmed  by  the  smoke  of  the  burning  cities.  The 
ministers  of  so  appalling  a  justice  as  was  here  displayed 
enter  the  city  as  ordinary  travellers.  When  a  crisis 
comes,  men  do  not  suddenly  acquire  an  intelligence 
and  insight  they  have  not  habitually  cultivated.  They 
cannot  suddenly  put  forth  an  energy  nor  exhibit  an 
apt  helpfulness  which  only  character  can  give.  When 
the  test  comes,  we  stand  or  fall  not  according  to  what 
we  would  wish  to  be  and  now  see  the  necessity  of 
being,  but  according  to  what  former  self-discipline  or 
self-indulgence  has  made  us. 

How  then  shall  this  angelic  commission  of  enquiry 
proceed  ?  Shall  it  call  together  the  elders  of  Sodom — 
or  shall  it  take  Lot  outside  the  city  and  cross-examine 
him,  setting  down  names  and  dates  and  seeking  to 
come  to  a  fair  judgment.  Not  at  all — there  is  a  much 
surer  way  of  detecting  character  than  by  any  process 
of  examination  by  question  and  answer.  To  each  of 
us  God  says  : 

"Since  by  its  fruit  a  tree  is  judged, 
Show  me  thy  fruit,  the  latest  act  of  thine  I 
For  in  the  last  is  summed  the  first,  and  all, — • 
What  thy  life  last  put  heart  and  soul  into, 
There  shall  I  taste  thy  product." 

It  is  thus  these  angels  proceed.  They  do  not  startle 
the  inhabitants  of  Sodom  into  any  abnormal  virtue  nor 
present  opportunity  for  any  unwonted  iniquity.  They 
give    them    opportunity   to   act    in    their   usual   wa}'. 


i8S  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

Nothing  could  well  be  more  ordinary  than  the  entrance 
to  the  city  of  two  strangers  at  sunset.  There  is 
nothing  in  this  to  excite,  to  throw  men  off  their  guard, 
to  overbalance  the  daily  habit,  or  give  exaggerated 
expression  to  some  special  feature  of  character.  It  is 
thus  we  are  all  judged — by  the  insignificant  circum- 
stances in  which  we  act  without  reflection,  without 
conscious  remembrance  of  an  impending  judgment,  with 
heart  and  soul  and  full  enjoyment. 

,  First  Lot  is  judged.  Lot's  character  is  a  singularly 
mixed  one.  With  all  his  selfishness,  he  was  hospitable 
and  public-spirited.  Lover  of  good  living,  as  un- 
doubtedly he  was,  his  courage  and  strength  of  character 
are  yet  unmistakable.  His  sitting  at  the  gate  in  the 
evening  to  offer  hospitality  ma}^  fairly  be  taken  as  an 
indication  of  his  desire  to  screen  the  wickedness  of  his 
townsmen,  and  also  to  shield  the  stranger  from  their 
brutality.  From  the  style  in  which  the  mob  addressed 
him,  it  is  obvious  that  he  had  made  himself  offensive 
by  interfering  to  prevent  wrong-doing.  He  was  nick- 
named "  the  Censor,"  and  his  eye  was  felt  to  carry 
condemnation.  It  is  true  there  is  no  evidence  that  his 
opposition  had  been  of  the  slightest  avail.  How  could 
it  avail  with  men  who  knew  perfectly  well  that  with  all 
his  denunciation  of  their  wicked  ways,  he  preferred 
their  money-making  company  to  the  desolation  of  the 
hills,  where  he  would  be  vexed  with  no  filthy  conver- 
sation, but  would  also  find  no  markets  ?  Still  it  is  to 
Lot's  credit  that  in  such  a  city,  with  none  to  observe, 
none  to  applaud,  and  none  to  second  him,  he  should 
have  been  able  to  preserve  his  own  purity  of  life  and 
steadily  to  resist  wrong-doing.  It  would  be  cynical  to  say 
that  he  cultivated  austerity  and  renounced  popular  vices 
as  a  salve  to  a  conscience  wounded  by  his  own  greed. 


r 


Gen.  xix.]  THE  CITIES  OF  THE  PLAIN,  189 

That  he  had  the  courage  which  lies  at  the  root  of 
strength  of  character  became  apparent  as  the  last  dark 
night  of  Sodom  wore  on.     To  go  out    among  a    pro-< 
fligate,  lawless  mob,  wild  with  passion  and  infuriatedl 
by  opposition — to  go  out  and  shut  the  door  behind  himl 
— was    an  act    of  true    courage.      His    confidence    in  I 
the  influence  he  had  gained  in  the  town  cannot  have  \ 
blinded  him  to  the  temper  of  the  raging  crowd  at  his 
door.     To  defend  his  unknown  guests  he  put  himself 
in  a  position  in  which  men  have  frequently  lost  life. 

In  the  first  few  hours  of  his  last  night  in  Sodom, 
there  is  much  that  is  admirable  and  pathetic  in  Lot's 
conduct.  But  when  we  have  said  that  he  was  bold  and 
that  he  hated  other  men's  sins,  we  have  exhausted  the 
more  attractive  side  of  his  character.  The  inhuman 
collectedness  of  mind  with  which,  in  the  midst  of  a  tre- 
mendous public  calamity,  he  could  scheme  for  his  own 
private  well-being  is  the  key  to  his  whole  character, 
H^'  had  no  feeling.  He  was  cold-blooded,  calculating, 
keenly  alive  to  his  own  interest,  with  all  his  wits 
about  him  to  reap  some  gain  to  himself  out  of  every 
disaster ;  the  kind  of  man  out  of  whom  wreckers  are 
made,  who  can  with  gusto  strip  gold  rings  off  the 
fingers  of  doomed  corpses  ;  out  of  whom  are  made  the 
villains  who  can  rifle  the  pockets  of  their  dead  comrades 
on  a  battlefield,  or  the  politicians  who  can  still  ride 
on  the  top  of  the  wave  that  hurls  their  country  on 
the  rocks.  When  Abraham  gave  him  his  choice  of  a 
grazing  ground,  no  rush  of  feeling,  no  sense  of  grati- 
tude, prevented  him  from  making  the  most  of  the 
opportunity.  When  his  house  was  assailed,  he  had 
coolness,  when  he  went  out  to  the  mob,  to  shut  the 
door  behind  him  that  those  within  might  not  hear  his 
bargain.     When  the  angel,  one  might  almost  say,  was 


I90  THE  BOCK  OF  GENESIS. 

flurried  by  the  impending  and  terrible  destruction,  and 
was  hurrying  him  away,  he  was  calm  enough  to  take 
in  at  a  glance  the  whole  situation  and  on  the  spot 
make  provision  for  himself.  There  was  no  need  to  tell 
him  not  to  look  back  as  his  wife  did :  no  deep  emotion 
would  overmaster  him,  no  unconquerable  longing  to  see 
the  last  of  his  dear  friends  in  Sodom  would  make  him 
lose  one  second  of  his  time.  Even  the  loss  of  his  wife 
was  not  a  matter  of  such  importance  as  to  make  him 
forget  himself  and  stand  to  mourn.  In  every  recorded 
act  of  his  life  appears  this  same  unpleasant  character- 
istic. 

Between  Lot  and  Judas  there  is  an  instructive  simi- 
larity. Both  had  sufficient  discernment  and  decision 
of  character  to  commit  themselves  to  the  life  of  faith, 

1  abandoning  their  original  residence  and  ways  of  life. 
Both  came  to  a  shameful  end,  because  the  motive  even 
of  the  sacrifices  they  made  was  self-interest.  Neither 
would  have  had  so  dark  a  career  had  he  more  justly 
estimated  his  own  character  and  capabilities,  and  not 
attempted  a  life  for  which  he  was  unfit.  They  both 
put  themselves  into  a  false  position ;  than  which 
nothing  tends  more  rapidly  to  deteriorate  character. 
Lot  was  in  a  doubly  false  position,  because  in  Sodom 
as  well  as  in  Abraham's  shifting  camp  he  was  out  of 
place.  He  voluntarily  bound  himself  to  men  he  could 
not  love.  One  side  of  his  nature  was  paralysed  ;  and 
that  the  side  which  in  him  especially  required  develop- 
ment. It  is  the  influence  of  home  life,  of  kindly 
surroundings,  of  friendships,  of  congenial  employment, 
of  everything  which  evokes  the  free  expression  of  what 
is  best  in  us ;  it  is  this  which  is  a  chief  factor  in  the 
,  development  of  every  man.  But  instead  of  the  genial 
I  and   fertilising    influence   of  worthy    friendships,    and 


Gen.  xix.]  THE   CITIES  OF  THE  PLAIN.  191 

ennobling  love,  Lot  had  to  pretend  good-will  where  he 
felt  none,  and  deceit  and  coldness  grew  upon  him  in 
place  of  charity.  Besides,  a  man  in  a  false  position 
in  life,  out  of  which  he  can  by  any  sacrifice  deliver 
himself,  is  never  at  peace  with  God  until  he  does 
deliver  himself.  And  any  attempt  to  live  a  righteous 
life  with  an  evil  conscience  is  foredoomed  to  failure. 

And  if  it  still  be  felt  that  Lot  was  punished  with 
extreme  severity,  and  that  if  every  man  who  chose  a 
good»  grazing  ground  or  a  position  in  life  which  was 
likely  to  advance  his  fortune  were  thereby  doomed 
to  end  his  days  in  a  cave  and  under  the  darkest  moral 
brand,  society  would  be  quite  disintegrated,  it  must 
be  remembered,  that  in  order  to  advance  his  interests 
in  life,  Lot  sacrificed  much  that  a  man  is  bound  by 
all  means  to  cherish ;  and  further,  it  must  be  said 
that  our  destinies  are  thus  determined.  The  whole 
iniquity  and  final  consequences  of  our  disposition  are 
not  laid  before  us  in  the  mass ;  but  to  give  the  rein  to 
any  evil  disposition  is  to  yield  control  of  our  own  life 
and  commit  ourselves  to  guidance  which  cannot  result 
in  good,  and  is  of  a  nature  to  result  in  utter  shame  and 
wretchedness. 

Turning  from  the  rescued  to  the  destroyed,  we  recog- 
nise how  sufficient  a  test  of  their  moral  condition  the 
presence  of  the  angels  was.  The  inhabitants  of  Sodom 
quickly  afford  evidence  that  they  are  ripe  for  judgment. 
They  do  nothing  worse  than  their  habitual  conduct  led 
them  to  do.  It  is  not  for  this  one  crime  they  are 
punished ;  its  enormity  is  only  the  legible  instance 
which  of  itself  convicts  them.  They  are  not  aware  of 
the  frightful  nature  of  the  crime  they  seek  to  conunit. 
They  fancy  it  is  but  a  renewal  of  their  constant  prac- 
tice.    They  rush  headlong  on  destruction  and  do  not 


192  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

know  it.  How  can  it  be  otherwise  ?  If  a  man  will  not 
take  warning,  if  he  will  persist  in  sin,  then  the  day 
comes  when  he  is  betrayed  into  iniquity  the  frightful 
nature  of  which  he  did  not  perceive,  but  which  is  the 
natural  result  of  the  life  he  has  led.  He  goes  on  and 
will  not  give  up  his  sin  till  at  last  the  final  damning 
act  is  committed  which  seals  his  doom.  Character 
tends  to  express  itself  in  one  perfectly  representative 
act.  The  habitual  passion,  whatever  it  is,  is  always 
alive  and  seeking  expression.  Sometimes  one  consider- 
ation represses  it,  sometimes  another ;  but  these  con- 
siderations are  not  constant,  while  the  passion  is,  and 
must  therefore  one  day  find  its  opportunity — its  oppor- 
tunity not  for  that  moderate,  guarded,  disguised  expres- 
sion which  passes  without  notice,  but  for  the  full 
utterance  of  its  very  essence.  So  it  was  here,  the 
whole  city,  small  and  great,  young  and  old,  from  every 
quarter  came  together  unanimous  and  eager  in  prose- 
cuting the  vilest  wickedness.  No  further  investigation 
or  proof  was  needed :  it  has  indeed  passed  into  a 
proverb  :  "  they  declare  their  sin  as  Sodom." 

To  punish  by  a  special  commission  of  enquiry  is 
quite  unusual  in  God's  government.  Nations  are  pun- 
ished for  immorality  or  for  vicious  administration  of 
law  or  for  neglect  of  sanitary  principles  by  the  opera- 
tion of  natural  laws.  That  is  to  say,  there  is  a  distinctly 
traceable  connection  between  the  crime  and  its  punish- 
ment ;  the  one  being  the  natural  cause  of  the  other. 
That  nations  should  be  weakened,  depopulated,  and 
ultimately  sink  into  insignificance,  is  the  natural  result 
of  a  development  of  the  military  spirit  of  a  country  and 
the  love  of  g^o^3^  That  a  population  should  be  deci- 
mated by  cholera  or  small-pox  is  the  inevitable  result 
of  neglecting  intelligible  laws  of  health.     It  seems  to 


Gen.  xix.]  THE   CITIES  OF   THE  PLAIN.  193 

me  absurd  to  put  this  destruction  of  Sodom  in  the 
same  category.  The  descent  of  meteoric  stones  from 
the  sicy  is  not  the  natural  result  of  immorality.  The 
vices  of  these  cities  have  disastrous  national  results 
which  are  quite  legibly  written  in  some  races  existing 
in  the  present  day.  We  have  here  to  do  not  with 
what  is  natural  but  with  what  is  miraculous.  Of 
course  it  is  open  to  any  one  to  say,  "It  was  merely 
accidental — it  was  a  m^ere  coincidence  that  a  storm 
of  lightning  so  violent  as  to  set  fire  to  the  bituminous 
soil  should  rage  in  the  valley,  while  on  the  hills  a 
mile  or  two  off  all  was  serene  ;  it  was  a  mere  coincidence 
that  meteoric  stones  or  some  instrument  of  conflagra- 
tion should  set  on  fire  just  these  cities,  not  only  one  of 
them  but  four  of  them,  and  no  more."  And  certainly 
were  there  nothing  more  to  go  upon  than  the  fact  of 
their  destruction,  this  coincidence,  however  extraor- 
dinary, must  still  be  admitted  as  wholly  natural,  and 
having  no  relation  to  the  character  of  the  people 
destroyed.  It  might  be  set  down  as  pure  accident, 
and  be  classed  with  storms  at  sea,  or  volcanic  eruptions, 
which  are  due  to  physical  causes  and  have  no  relation 
to  the  moral  character  of  those  involved,  but  indiscrim- 
inately destroy  all  who  happen  to  be  present. 

But  we  have  to  account  not  only  for  the  fact  of  the 
destruction  but  for  its  prediction  both  to  Abraham  and 
to  Lot.  Surely  it  is  only  reasonable  to  allow  that  such 
prediction  was  supernatural ;  and  the  prediction  being 
so,  it  is  also  reasonable  to  accept  the  account  of  the 
event  given  by  the  predlcters  of  it,  and  understand  it 
not  as  an  ordinary  physical  catastrophe,  but  as  an 
event  contrived  with  a  view  to  tl;e  moral  character  of 
those  concerned,  and  intended  as  an  infliction  of  punish- 
ment for  moral  offences.     And  before  we  object  to  a 

13 


194  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

Style  of  dealing  with  nations  so  different  frcm  anything 
we  now  detect,  we  must  be  sure  that  a  quite  different 
style  of  dealing  was  not  at  that  time  required.  If  there 
is  an  intelligent  training  of  the  world,  it  must  follow  the 
same  law  which  requires  that  a  parent  deal  in  one  way 
with  his  boy  of  ten  and  in  another  with  his  adult 
son. 

Of  Lot's  wife  the  end  is  recorded  in  a  curt  and 
summary  fashion.  "  His  wife  looked  back  from  be- 
hind him,  and  she  became  a  pillar  of  salt."  The  angel, 
knowing  how  closely  on  the  heels  of  the  fugitives  the 
storm  would  press,  had  urgently  enjoined  haste,  saying, 
"Look  not  behind  thee,  neither  stay  thou  in  all  the 
plain."  Rapid  in  its  pursuit  as  a  prairie  fire,  it  was 
only  the  swift  who  could  escape  it.  To  pause  was  to 
be  lost.  The  command,  "  Look  not  behind  thee  "  was 
not  given  because  the  scene  was  too  awful  to  behold 
for  what  men  can  endure,  men  may  behold,  and  Abraham 
looked  upon  it  from  the  hill  above.  It  was  given  simply 
from  the  necessity  of  the  case  and  from  no  less  prac- 
tical and  more  arbitrary  reason.  Accordingly  when 
the  command  was  neglected,  the  consequence  was  felt. 
Why  the  infatuated  woman  looked  back  one  can  only 
conjecture.  The  woful  sounds  behind  her,  the  roar 
of  the  flame  and  of  Jordan  driven  back,  the  crash  of 
falling  houses  and  the  last  forlorn  cry  of  the  doomed 
cities,  all  the  confused  and  terrific  din  that  filled  her 
ear,  may  well  have  paralysed  her  and  almost  compelled 
her  to  turn.  But  the  use  our  Lord  makes  of  her 
example  shows  us  that  He  ascribed  her  turning  to  a 
different  motive.  He  uses  her  as  a  warning  to  those 
who  seek  to  save  out  of  the  destruction  more  than  they 
have  time  to  save,  and  so  lose  all.  "  He  which  shall 
be  on  the  housetop,  and  his  stuff  in  the  house,  let  him 


Gen.  xix.]  THE   CITIES  OF  THE  PLAIN.  195 

not  come  down  to  take  it  away ;  and  he  that  is  in  the 
field,  let  him  likewise  not  return  back.  Remember 
Lot's  wife."  It  would  seem,  then,  as  if  our  Lord 
ascribed  her  tragic  fate  to  her  reluctance  to  abandon 
her  household  stuff.  She  was  a  wife  after  Lot's  own 
heart,  who  in  the  midst  of  danger  and  disaster  had  an 
eye  to  her  possessions.  The  smell  of  fire,  the  hot  blast 
in  her  hair,  the  choking  smoke  of  blazing  bitumen, 
suggested  to  her  only  the  thought  of  her  own  house 
decorations,  her  hangings,  and  ornaments,  and  stores. 
She  felt  keenly  the  hardship  of  leaving  so  much  wealth 
to  be  the  mere  food  of  fire.  The  thought  of  such 
intolerable  waste  made  her  more  breathless  with  indig- 
nation than  her  rapid  flight.  Involuntarily  as  she 
looks  at  the  bleak,  stony  mountains  before  her,  she 
thinks  of  the  rich  plain  behind  ;  she  turns  for  one  last 
look,  to  see  if  it  is  impossible  to  return,  impossible  to 
save  anything  from  the  wreck.  The  one  look  trans- 
fixes her,  rivets  her  with  dismay  and  horror.  Nothing 
she  looked  for  can  be  seen ;  all  is  changed  in  wildest 
confusion.  Unable  to  move,  she  is  overtaken  and 
involved  in  the  sulphurous  smoke,  the  bitter  salts  rise 
out  of  the  earth  and  stifle  her  and  encrust  around  her 
and  build  her  tomb  where  she  stands. 

Lot's  wife  by  her  death  proclaims  that  if  we  crave  to 
make  the  best  of  both  worlds,  we  shall  probably  lose 
both.  Her  disposition  is  not  rare  and  exceptional  as 
the  pillar  of  salt  which  was  its  monument.  She  is  not 
the  only  woman  whose  heart  is  so  fixedly  set  upon  her 
household  possessions  that  she  cannot  listen  to  the 
angel-voices  that  would  guide  her.  Are  there  none  but 
Lot's  wife  who  show  that  to  them  there  is  nothing  so 
important,  nothing  else  indeed  to  live  for  at  all,  but  the 
management  of  a  house  and  the  accumulation  of  pos- 


196  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

sessions  ?  If  all  who  are  of  the  same  mind  as  Lot's 
wife  shared  her  fate  the  world  would  present  as  strange 
a  spectacle  as  the  Dead  Sea  presents  at  this  day.  For 
radically  it  was  her  divided  mind  which  was  her  ruin. 
She  had  good  impulses,  she  saw  what  she  ought  to  do, 
but  she  did  not  do  it  with  a  mind  made  up.  Other 
things  divided  her  thoughts  and  diverted  her  efforts. 
What  else  is  it  ruins  half  the  people  who  suppose 
themselves  well  on  the  way  of  life  ?  The  world  is  in 
their  heart ;  they  cannot  pursue  with  undivided  mind 
the  promptings  of  a  better  wisdom.  Their  heart  is 
with  their  treasure,  and  their  treasure  is  really  not  in 
spiritual  excellence,  not  in  purity  of  character,  not  in 
the  keen  bracing  air  of  the  silent  mountains  where  God 
is  known,  but  in  the  comforts  and  gains  of  the  luxurious 
plain  behind. 

We  are  to  remember  Lot's  wife  that  we  may  bear  in 
mind  how  possible  it  is  that  persons  who  promise  well 
and  make  great  efforts  and  bid  fair  to  reach  a  place  of 
safety  may  be  overtaken  by  destruction.  We  can  per- 
haps tell  of  exhausting  effort,  we  may  have  outstripped 
many  in  practical  repentance,  but  all  this  may  only 
be  petrified  by  present  carelessness  into  a  monument 
recording  how  nearly  a  man  may  be  saved  and  yet  be 
destroyed,  "Have  ye  suffered  all  these  things  in  vain, 
if  it  be  yet  in  vain  ?  "  **  Ye  have  run  well,  what  nov/ 
hinders  you  ? "  The  question  always  is,  not,  what 
have  you  done,  but  what  are  you  now  doing  ?  Up  to 
the  site  of  the  pillar,  Lot's  wife  had  done  as  well  as 
Lot,  had  kept  pace  with  the  angels  ;  but  her  failure  at 
that  point  destroyed  her. 

The  same  urgency  may  not  be  felt  by  all ;  but  it 
should  be  felt  by  all  to  whose  conscience  it  has  been 
distinctly  intimated  that  they  have  become  involved  in 


Gen.  xix.]  THE   CITIES  OF  THE  PLAIN.  197 

a  state  of  matters  which  is  ruinous.  If  you  are  con- 
scious that  in  your  life  there  are  practices  which  may 
very  well  issue  in  moral  disaster,  an  angel  has  taken 
you  by  the  hand  and  bid  you  flee.  For  you  to  delay  is 
madness.  Yet  this  is  what  people  will  do.  Sagacious 
m.en  of  the  world,  even  when  they  see  the  probability  of 
disaster,  cannot  bear  to  come  out  with  loss.  They  will 
always  wait  a  little  longer  to  see  if  they  cannot  rescue 
something  more,  and  so  start  on  a  fresh  course  with 
less  inconvenience.  They  will  not  understand  that  it 
is  better  to  live  bare  and  stripped  with  a  good  con- 
science and  high  moral  achievement,  than  in  abundance 
with  self-contempt.  What  they  have,  always  seems 
more  to  them  than  what  they  are. 


XVI. 

SACRIFICE   OF  ISAAC. 
Genesis  xxii. 

THE  sacrifice  of  Isaac  was  the  supreme  act  of 
Abraham's  life.  The  faith  which  had  been 
schooled  by  so  singular  an  experience  and  by  so 
many  minor  trials  was  here  perfected  and  exhibited 
as  perfect.  The  strength  which  he  had  been  slowly 
gathering  during  a  long  and  trying  life  was  here 
required  and  used.  This  is  the  act  which  shines  like 
a  star  out  of  those  dark  ages,  and  has  served  for  many 
storm-tossed  souls  over  whom  God's  billows  have  gone, 
as  a  mark  by  which  they  could  still  shape  their  course 
when  all  else  was  dark.  The  devotedness  which  made 
the  sacrifice,  the  trust  in  God  that  endured  when  even 
such  a  sacrifice  was  demanded,  the  justification  of  this 
trust  by  the  event,  and  the  affectionate  fatherly  acknow- 
ledgment with  which  God  gloried  in  the  man's  loyalty 
and  strength  of  character — all  so  legibly  written  here — 
come  home  to  every  heart  in  the  time  of  its  need. 
Abraham  has  here  shown  the  way  to  the  highest  reach 
of  human  devotedness  and  to  the  heartiest  submission 
to  the  Divme  will  in  the  most  heart-rending  circum- 
stances. Men  and  women  living  our  modern  life  are 
brought  into  situations  which  seem  as  torturing  and 
overvv^helming  as  those  of  Abraham,  and  all  who  are 


Gen.  xxii.]  SACRIFICE   OF  ISAAC.  199 

in    such    conditions  find,    in    his    loyal    trust    in  God, 
sympathetic  and  effectual  aid. 

In  order  to  understand  God's  part  in  this  incident 
and  to  remove  the  suspicion  that  God  imposed  upon 
Abraham  as  a  duty  what  was  really  a  crime,  or  that 
He  was  playing  with  the  most  sacred  feelings  of  His 
servant,  there  are  one  or  two  facts  which  must  not  be 
left  out  of  consideration.  In  the  first  place,  Abraham 
did  not  think  it  wrong  to  sacrifice  his  son.  His  own 
conscience  did  not  clash  with  God's  command.  On 
the  contrary,  it  was  through  his  own  conscience  God's 
will  impressed  itself  upon  him.  No  man  of  Abraham's 
character  and  intelligence  could  suppose  that  any  word 
of  God  could  make  that  right  which  was  in  itself  wrong, 
or  would  allow  the  voice  of  conscience  to  be  drowned 
by  some  m3'sterious  voice  from  without.  If  Abraham 
had  supposed  that  in  all  circumstances  it  was  a  crime 
to  take  his  son's  life,  he  could  not  have  listened  to 
any  voice  that  bade  him  commit  this  crime.  The  man 
who  in  our  day  should  put  his  child  to  death  and  plead 
that  he  had  a  Divine  warrant  for  it  would  either  be 
hanged  or  confined  as  insane.  No  miracle  would  be 
accepted  as  a  guarantee  for  the  Divine  dictation  of 
such  an  act.  No  voice  from  heaven  would  be  listened 
to  for  a  moment,  if  it  contradicted  the  voice  of  the 
universal  conscience  of  mankind.  But  in  Abraham's 
day  the  universal  conscience  had  only  approbation  to 
express  for  such  a  deed  as  this.  Not  only  had  the  father 
absolute  power  over  the  son,  so  that  he  might  do  with 
him  what  he  pleased  ;  but  this  particular  mode  of 
disposing  of  a  son  would  be  considered  singular  only 
as  being  beyond  the  reach  of  ordinary  virtue.  Abraham 
was  familiar  with  the  idea  that  the  most  exalted  form 
of  religious  worship  was  the  sacrifice  of  the  first-born. 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


He  felt,  in  common  with  godly  men  in  every  age,  that 
to  offer  to  God  cheap  sacrifices  while  we  retain  for 
ourselves  what  is  truly  precious,  is  a  kind  of  worship 
that  betrays  our  low  estimate  of  God  rather  than 
expresses  true  devotion.  He  may  have  been  conscious 
that  in  losing  Ishmael  he  had  felt  resentment  against 
God  for  depriving  him  of  so  loved  a  possession ;  he^ 
may  have  seen  Canaanite  fathers  offering  their  children 
to  gods  he  knew  to  be  utterly  unworthy  of  any  sacrifice  ; 
and  this  may  have  rankled  in  his  mind  until  he  felt 
shut  up  to  offer  his  all  to  God  in  the  person  of  his  son, 
his  only  son,  Isaac.  At  all  events,  however  it  became 
his  conviction  that  God  desired  him  to  offer  his  son, 
this  was  a  sacrifice  which  was  in  no  respect  forbidden 
by  his  own  conscience. 

But  although  not  wrong  in  Abraham's  judgment, 
this  sacrifice  was  wrong  in  the  eye  of  God ;  how  then 
can  we  justify  God's  command  that  He  should  make 
it  ?  We  justify  it  precisely  on  that  ground  which  lies 
patent  on  the  face  of  the  narrative — God  meant  Abraham 
to  make  the  sacrifice  in  spirit,  not  in  the  outward  act ; 
He  meant  to  write  deeply  on  the  Jewish  mind  the 
fundamental  lesson  regarding  sacrifice,  that  it  is  in  the 
spirit  and  will  all  true  sacrifice  is  made,  God  intended 
what  actually  happened,  that  Abraham's  sacrifice  should 
be  complete  and  that  human  sacrifice  should  receive  a 
fatal  blow.  So  far  from  introducing  into  Abraham's 
mind  erroneous  ideas  about  sacrifice,  this  incident 
finally  dispelled  from  his  mind  such  ideas  and  per- 
manently fixed  in  his  mind  the  conviction  that  the 
sacrifice  God  seeks  is  the  devotion  of  the  Hving  soul 
not  the  consumption  of  a  dead  body.  God  met  him 
on  the  platform  of  knowledge  and  of  morality  to  which 
he  had  attained,  and  by  requiring  him  to  sacrifice  his 


Gen.xxii.]  SACRIFICE   OF  ISAAC.  20l 

son  taught  him  and  all  his  descendants  in  what  sense 
alone  such  sacrifice  can  be  acceptable.  God  meant 
Abraham  to  sacrifice  his  son,  but  not  in  the  coarse 
material  sense.  God  meant  him  to  yield  the  lad  truly 
to  Him ;  to  arrive  at  the  consciousness  that  Isaac  more 
truly  belonged  to  God  than  to  him,  his  father.  It  was 
needful  that  Abraham  and  Isaac  should  be  in  perfect 
harmony  with  the  Divine  will.  Only  by  being  really 
and  absolutely  in  God's  hand  could  they,  or  can  any 
one,  reach  the  whole  and  full  good  designed  for  them 
by  Gcd. 

How  old  Isaac  was  at  the  time  of  this  sacrifice  there 
is  no  means  of  accurately  ascertaining.  He  was  pro- 
bably in  the  vigour  of  early  manhood.  He  was  able 
to  take  his  share  in  the  work  of  cutting  wood  for  the 
burnt  offering  and  carrying  the  faggots  a  considerable 
distance.  It  was  necessary  too  that  this  sacrifice  should 
be  made  on  Isaac's  part  not  with  the  timorous  shrink- 
ing or  ignorant  boldness  of  a  boy,  but  with  the  full 
comprehension  and  deliberate  consent  of  maturer  years. 
It  is  probable  that  Abraham  was  already  preparing, 
if  not  to  yield  to  Isaac  the  family  headship,  yet  to 
introduce  him  to  a  share  in  the  responsibilities  he  had 
so  long  borne  alone.  From  the  touching  confidence 
in  one  another  which  this  incident  exhibits,  a  light  is 
reflected  on  the  fond  intercourse  of  former  years. 
Isaac  was  at  that  time  of  life  when  a  son  is  closest 
to  a  father,  mature  but  not  independent ;  when  all  that 
a  father  can  do  has  been  done,  but  while  as  yet  the 
son  has  not  passed  away  into  a  life  of  his  own. 

And  Isaac  was  no  ordinary  son.  The  man  of  busi- 
ness who  has  encouraged  and  solaced  himself  in  his 
toil  by  the  hope  that  his  son  will  reap  the  fruit  of  it 
and  make  his  old  age  easy  and    honoured,   but  who 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


outlives  his  son  and  sees  the  effort  of  his  Hfe  go  for 
nothing ;  the  proprietor  who  bears  an  ancient  name 
and  sees  his  heir  die — these  are  familiar  objects  of 
pathetic  interest,  and  no  heart  is  so  hard  as  to  refuse 
a  tear  of  sympathy  when  brought  into  view  of  such 
heart-withering  bereavements.  But  in  Abraham  all 
fatherly  feelings  had  been  evoked  and  strengthened  and 
deepened  by  a  quite  peculiar  experience.  By  a  special 
and  most  effectual  discipline  he  had  been  separated 
from  the  objects  which  ordinarily  divide  men's  attention 
and  eke  out  their  contentment  in  life,  and  his  whole 
hopes  had  been  compelled  to  centre  in  his  son.  It  was 
not  the  perpetuation  of  a  name  nor  the  transmission 
of  a  well-known  and  valuable  property ;  it  was  not 
even  the  gratification  of  the  most  justifiable  and  tender 
of  human  affections,  that  was  crushed  and  thwarted 
in  Abraham  by  this  command  ;  but  it  was  also  and 
especially  that  hope  which  had  been  aroused  and  fostered 
in  him  by  extraordinary  providences  and  which  con- 
cerned, as  he  believed,  not  himself  alone  but  all  men. 

Manifestly  no  harder  task  could  have  been  set  to 
Abraham,  than  that  which  was  imposed  on  him  by  the 
command,  "  Take  now  thy  son,  thine  only  son,  Isaac, 
whom  thou  lovest,"  this  son  of  thine  in  whom  all  the 
promises  are  yea  and  amen  to  thee,  this  son  for  whose 
sake  thou  gavest  up  home  and  kindred,  and  banished 
thy  firstborn  Ishmael,  this  son  whom  thou  lovest,  and 
offer  him  for  a  burnt-offering.  This  son,  Abraham 
might  have  said,  whom  I  have  been  taught  to  cherish, 
putting  aside  all  other  affections  that  I  might  love  him 
above  all,  I  am  now  with  my  own  hand  to  slay,  to  slay 
with  all  the  terrible  niceties  and  formalities  of  sacrifice 
and  with  all  the  love  and  adoration  of  sacrifice.  I  am 
v.ith  my  own  hand  to  destroy  all  that  makes  life  valu- 


Gen.  xxii.]  SACRIFICE    OF  ISAAC.  203 

able  to  me,  and  as  I  do  so  I  am  to  love  and  worship 
Him  who  commands  this  sacrifice.  I  am  to  go  to 
Isaac,  whom  I  have  taught  to  look  forward  to  the.  fairest 
happiest  life,  and  I  am  to  contradict  all  I  ever  told  him 
and  tell  him  now  that  he  has  only  grown  to  maturity 
that  he  might  be  cut  down  in  the  flush  and  hope  of 
opening  manhood.  What  can  Abraham  have  thought  ? 
Possibly  the  thought  would  occur  that  God  was  now 
recalling  the  great  gift  He  had  made.  There  is  always 
enough  conscience  of  sin  in  the  purest  human  heart 
to  engender  self-reproach  and  fear  on  the  faintest 
occasion ;  and  when  so  signal  a  token  of  God's  dis- 
pleasure as  this  was  sent,  Abraham  may  well  have 
believed  himself  to  have  been  unwittingly  guilty  of 
some  great  crime  against  God,  or  have  now  thought 
with  bitterness  of  the  languid  devotion  he  had  been 
offering  Him.  I  have  in  sacrificing  a  lamb  been  as  if 
I  had  been  cutting  off  a  dog's  neck,  profane  and  thought- 
less in  my  worship,  and  now  God  is  solemnising  me 
indeed.  I  have  in  thought  or  desire  kept  back  the 
prime  of  my  flock,  and  God  is  now  teaching  me  that  a 
man  may  not  rob  God.  Who  could  have  been  sur- 
prised if  in  this  horror  of  grent  darkness  the  mind  of 
Abraham  had  become  unhinged  ?  Who  could  wonder 
if  he  had  slain  himself  to  make  the  loss  of  Isaac 
impossible  ?  Who  could  wonder  if  he  had  sullenly 
ignored  the  command,  waited  for  further  light,  or  re- 
jected an  alliance  with  God  which  involved  such  lament- 
able conditions  ?  Nothing  that  could  befall  him  in 
consequence  of  disobedience,  he  might  have  supposed, 
could  exceed  in  pain  the  agciy  of  obedience.  And 
it  is  always  easier  to  endure  the  pain  inflicted  upon  us 
by  circumstances  than  to  do  \,'ith  our  own  hand  and 
free   will  what  we  know  will  involve   us  in  suffering. 


204  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

It  is  not  mere  resignation  but  active  obedience  that 
was  required  of  Abraham.  His  was  not  the  passive 
resignation  of  the  man  out  of  whose  reach  death  or 
disaster  has  swept  his  dearest  treasures,  and  who  is 
helped  to  resignation  by  the  consciousness  that  no 
murmuring  can  bring  them  back — his  was  the  far 
more  difficult  active  resignation,  which  has  still  in  pos- 
session all  that  it  prizes,  and  may  withhold  these 
treasures  if  it  pleases,  but  is  called  by  a  higher  voice 
than  that  of  self-pleasing  to  sacrifice  them  all. 

But  though  Abraham  was  the  chief,  he  was  not  the 
sole  actor  in  this  trying  scene.  To  Isaac  this  was  the 
memorable  day  of  his  life,  and  quiescent  and  passive  as 
his  character  seems  to  have  been,  it  cannot  but  have 
been  stirred  and  strained  now  in  every  fibre  of  it. 
Abraham  could  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to  disclose  to 
his  son  the  object  of  the  journey  ;  even  to  the  last  he 
kept  him  unconscious  of  the  part  he  was  himself  to 
play.  Two  long  days'  journey,  days  of  intense  inward 
commotion  to  Abraham,  they  went  northward.  On  the 
third  day  the  servants  were  left,  and  father  and  son 
went  on  alone,  unaccompanied  and  unwitnessed.  "  So 
they  went,"  as  the  narrative  twice  over  says,  "  both  of 
them  together,"  but  with  minds  how  differently  filled; 
the  father's  heart  torn  with  anguish,  and  distracted  by 
a  thousand  thoughts,  the  son's  mind  disengaged,  oc- 
cupied only  with  the  new  scenes  and  with  passing 
fancies.  Nowhere  in  the  narrative  does  the  complete- 
ness of  the  mastery  Abraham  had  gained  over  his 
natural  feelings  appear  more  strikingly  than  in  the 
calmness  with  which  he  answers  Isaac's  question.  As 
they  approach  the  place  of  sacrifice  Isaac  observes  the 
silent  and  awe-struck  demeanour  of  his  father,  and  fears 
that  it  may  have  been  through  absence  of  mind  he  has 


Gen.  xxii.]  SACRIFICE   OF  ISAAC.  205 

neglected  to  bring  the  lamb.  With  a  gentle  reverence 
he  ventures  to  attract  Abraham's  attention  :  "  My 
father  ; "  and  he  said,  "  Here  am  I,  my  son."  And  he 
said,  "  Behold  the  fire  and  the  wood,  but  w^here  is  the 
lamb  for  a  burnt  offering  ?  "  It  is  one  of  those  moments 
when  only  the  strongest  heart  can  bear  up  calmly  and 
when  only  the  humblest  faith  has  the  right  word  to 
say.  "  My  son,  the  Lord  will  provide  Himself  a  lamb 
for  a  burnt  offering." 

Not  much  longer  could  the  terrible  truth  be  hidden 
from  Isaac.  With  what  feelings  must  he  have  seen  the 
agonised  face  of  his  father  as  he  turned  to  bind  him 
and  as  he  learned  that  he  must  prepare  not  to  sacrifice 
but  to  be  sacrificed.  Here  then  v.'as  the  end  of  those 
great  hopes  on  which  his  youth  had  been  fed.  What 
could  such  contradiction  mean  ?  Was  he  to  submit 
even  to  his  father  in  such  a  matter  ?  Why  should 
he  not  expostulate,  resist,  flee  ?  Such  ideas  seem  to 
have  found  short  entertainment  in  the  mind  of  Isaac. 
Trained  by  long  experience  to  trust  his  father,  he 
obeys  without  complaint  or  murmur.  Still  it  cannot 
cease  to  be  matter  of  admiration  and  astonishment  that 
a  young  man  should  have  been  able  on  so  brief  a 
notice,  through  so  shocking  a  way,  and  with  so  start- 
ling a  reversal  of  his  expectations,  to  forego  all  right  to 
choose  for  himself,  and  yield  himself  implicitly  to  what 
he  believed  to  be  God's  will.  By  a  faith  so  absolute 
Isaac  became  indeed  the  heir  of  Abraham.  When  he 
laid  himself  on  the  altar,  trusting  his  father  and  his 
God,  he  came  of  age  as  the  true  seed  of  Abraham  and 
entered  on  the  inheritance,  making  God  his  God.  At 
that  supreme  moment  he  made  himself  over  to  God,  he 
put  himself  at  God's  disposal ;  if  his  death  was  to  be 
helpful  in  fulfilling  God's  purpose  he  was  willing  to  die./ 


2o6  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

it  was  God's  will  that  must  be  done,  not  his.  He 
knew  that  God  could  not  err,  could  not  harm  His 
people ;  he  was  ignorant  of  the  design  which  his  death 
could  fulfil,  but  he  felt  sure  that  his  sacrifice  was  not 
asked  in  vain.  He  had  familiarised  himself  with  the 
thought  that  he  belonged  to  God ;  that  he  was  on  earth 
for  God's  purposes  not  for  his  own  ;  so  that  now  when 
he  was  suddenly  summoned  to  lay  himself  formally  and 
finally  on  God's  altar,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  do  so. 
He  had  learned  that  there  are  possessions  more  worth 
preserving  than  life  itself,  that 

"  Manhood  is  the  one  immortal  thing 
Beneath  Time's  changeful  sky  " — 

he  had  learned  that  "  length  of  days  is  knowing  when 
to  die." 

No  one  who  has  measured  the  strain  that  such 
sacrifice  puts  upon  human  nature  can  withhold  his 
tribute  of  cordial  admiration  for  so  rare  a  devotedness, 
and  no  one  can  fail  to  see  that  by  this  sacrifice  Isaac 
became  truly  the  heir  of  Abraham.  And  not  only  Isaac, 
but  every  man  attains  his  majority  by  sacrifice.  Only 
by  losing  our  life  do  we  begin  to  live.  Only  by  yield- 
ing ourselves  truly  and  unreservedly  to  God's  purpose 
do  we  enter  the  true  life  of  men.  The  giving  up  of 
self,  the  abandonment  of  an  isolated  life,  the  bringing 
of  ourselves  into  connection  with  God,  with  the  Supreme 
and  with  the  whole,  this  is  the  second  birth.  To  reach 
that  full  stream  of  life  which  is  moved  by  God's  will 
and  which  is  the  true  life  of  men,  we  must  so  give 
ourselves  up  to  God,  that  each  of  His  commandments, 
each  of  His  providences,  all  by  which  He  comes  into 
connection  with  us,  has  its  due  effect  upon  us.  If  we 
only  seek  from  God  help  to  carry  out  our  own  concep- 


Gen.  xxii.]  SACRIFICE   OF  ISAAC.  207 

tion  of  life,  if  we  only  desire  His  power  to  aid  us  in 
making  of  this  life  what  we  have  resolved  it  shall  be, 
we  are  far  indeed  from  Isaac's  conception  of  God  and 
of  life.  But  if  we  desire  that  God  fulfil  in  us,  and 
through  us  His  own  conception  of  what  our  life  should 
be,  the  only  means  of  attaining  this  desire  is  to  put 
ourselves  fairly  into  God's  hand,  unflinchingly  to  do 
what  we  believe  to  be  His  will  irrespective  of  present 
darkness  and  pain  and  privation.  He  who  thus  bids 
an  honest  farewell  to  earth  and  lets  himself  be  bound 
and  laid  upon  God's  altar,  is  conscious  that  in  renounc- 
ing himself  he  has  won  God  and  become  His  heir. 

Have  you  thus  given  yourselves  to  God  ?  I  do  not 
ask  if  your  sacrifice  has  been  perfect,  nor  whether  you 
do  not  ever  seek  great  things  still  for  yourselves ;  but 
do  you  know  what  it  is  thus  to  yield  yourself  to  God, 
to  put  God  first,  yourself  second  or  nowhere  ?  Are 
you  even  occasionally  quite  willing  to  sink  your  own  in- 
terests, your  own  prospects,  3'our  own  native  tastes,  to 
have  your  own  worldly  hopes  delayed  or  blighted,  your 
future  darkened  ?  Have  you  even  brought  your  in- 
tellect to  bear  upon  this  first  law  of  human  life,  and 
determined  for  yourself  whether  it  is  the  case  or  not 
that  man's  life,  in  order  to  be  profitable,  joyful,  and 
abiding,  must  be  lived  in  God  ?  Do  you  recognise  that 
human  life  is  not  for  the  individual's  good,  but  for  the 
common  good,  and  that  only  in  God  can  each  man  find 
his  place  and  his  work  ?  Ml  that  we  give  up  to  Him 
we  have  in  an  ampler  form.  The  very  affections  which 
we  are  called  to  sacrifice  are  purified  and  deepened 
rather  than  lost.  When  Abraham  resigned  his  son  to 
God  and  received  him  back,  their  love  took  on  a  new 
delicacy  and  tenderness.  They  were  more  than  ever  to 
one  another  after  this  interference  of  God.     And  He 


2o8  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

meant  it  to  be  so.  Where  our  affections  are  thwarted 
or  where  our  hopes  are  blasted, ^'t  is  not  our  injury,  but 
our  good,  that  is  meant ,  a  lineness  and  pur't;^ .  an 
eternal  significance  and  depth,  are  imparted  to  affections 
that  are  annealed  by  passing  through  the  fire  of  trial. 

Not  till  the  last  moment  did  God  interpose  with  the 
gladdening  words,  "  Lay  not  thine  hand  upon  the  lad, 
neither  do  thou  anything  unto  him  ;  for  now  I  know 
that  thou  fearest  God,  seeing  thou  hast  not  withheld 
thy  son,  thine  only  son,  from  Me."  The  significance  of 
this  was  so  obvious  that  it  passed  into  a  proverb :  "  In 
the  mount  of  the  Lord  it  shall  be  provided."  It  was 
there,  and  not  at  any  earlier  point,  Abraham  saw  the 
provision  that  had  been  m.ade  for  an  offering.  Up  to 
the  moment  when  he  lifted  the  knife  over  all  he  lived 
for,  it  was  not  seen  that  other  provision  was  mad. 
Up  to  the  moment  when  it  was  indubitable  that  both 
he  and  Isaac  were  obedient  unto  death,  and  when  in 
will  and  feeling  they  had  sacrificed  themselves,  no 
substitute  was  visible,  but  no  sooner  was  the  sacrifice 
complete  in  spirit  than  God's  provision  was  disclosed. 
It  was  the  spirit  of  sacrifice,  not  the  blood  of  Isaac,  that 
God  desired.  It  was  the  noble  generosity  of  Abraham 
that  God  delighted  in,  not  the  fatherly  grief  that  would 
have  followed  the  actual  death  of  Isaac.  It  was  the 
heroic  submission  of  father  and  son  that  God  saw  with 
delight,  rejoicing  that  men  were  found  capable  of  the 
utmost  of  heroism,  of  patient  and  unflinching  adherence 
to  duty.  At  any  point  short  of  the  consummation, 
interposition  would  have  come  too  soon,  and  would  have 
prevented  this  educative  and  elevating  display  of  the 
capacity  of  men  for  the  utmost  that  life  can  require  of 
them.  Had  the  provision  of  God  been  made  known 
one  minute  before  the  hand  of  Abraham  was  raised  to 


Gen.  xxii.]  SACRIFICE   OF  ISAAC.  209 

Strike,  it  would  have  remained  doubtful  whether  in  the 
critical  moment  one  or;pther  of  the  parties  might  not 
have  o.iled.  But  when  '  the  sacrifi:e  v/as  complete, 
when  already  the  bitterness  of  death  was  past,  when 
all  the  agonizing  conflict  was  over,  the  anguish  of  the 
father  mastered,  and  the  dismay  of  the  son  subdued  to 
perfect  conformity  with  the  supreme  will,  then  the  full 
reward  of  victorious  conflict  was  given,  and  God's  mean- 
ing flashed  through  the  darkness,  and  His  provision 
was  seen. 

This  is  the  universal  law.  We  find  God's  provision 
only  on  the  mount  of  sacrifice,  not  at  any  stage  short 
of  this,  but  only  there.  We  must  go  the  whole  way  in 
faith ;  what  lies  before  us  as  duty,  we  must  do ;  often 
in  darkness  and  utter  misery,  seeing  no  possibility  of 
e.-  ..Ape  or  relief,  we  must  climb  the  hill  where  we  are 
to  abandon  all  that  has  given  joy  and  hope  to  our  life ; 
and  not  before  the  sacrifice  has  been  actually  made  can 
we  enter  into  the  heaven  of  victor}'  God  provides.  You 
may  be  called  to  sacrifice  your  youth,  your  hopes  of  a 
career,  your  affections,  that  you  may  uphold  and  soothe 
the  lingering  days  of  one  to  whom  you  are  naturally 
bound.  Or  your  whole  life  may  have  centred  in  an 
affection  which  circumstances  demand  you  shall  aban- 
don ;  you  may  have  to  sacrifice  your  natural  tastes  and 
give  up  almost  everything  you  once  set  your  heart  on  ; 
and  while  to  others  the  years  bring  brightness  and 
variety  and  scope,  to  you  they  may  be  bringing  only 
monotonous  fulfilment  of  insipid  and  uncongenial  tasks. 
You  may  be  in  circumstances  which  tempt  you  to  say, 
Does  God  see  the  inextricable  difficulty  I  am  in  ?  Does 
He  estimate  the  pain  I  must  suffer  if  immediate  relief 
do  not  come  ?  Is  obedience  to  Him  only  to  involve  me 
in  misery  from  which  other  men  are  exempt  ?     You  may 

14 


THE    BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


even  say  that  although  a  substitute  was  found  for  Isaac, 
no  substitute  has  been  found  for  the  sacrifice  you  have 
had  to  make,  but  you  have  been  compelled  actually  to 
lose  what  was  dear  to  you  as  life  itself.  But  when  the 
character  has  been  fully  tried,  when  the  utmost  good 
to  cTiaracter  has  been  accomplished,  and  when  delay  of 
relief  would  only  increase  misery,  then  relief  comes. 
Still  the  law  holds  good,  that  as  soon  as  you  in  spirit 
yield  to  God's  will,  and  with  a  quiet  submissiveness 
consent  to  the  loss  or  pain  inflicted  upon  you,  in  that 
hour  your  whole  attitude  to  your  circumstances  is  trans- 
formed, you  find  rest  and  assured  hope.  Two  things 
are  certain  :  that,  however  painful  your  condition  is, 
God's  intention  is  not  to  injure,  but  to  advance  you,  and 
that  hopeful  submission  is  wiser,  nobler,  and  every  way 
better  than  murmuring  end  resentm.ent. 

Finally,  these  words,  "  The  Lord  will  provide,"  which 
Abraham  uttered  in  thrt  exalted  frame  of  mind  which 
is  near  to  the  prophetic  ecstasy,  have  been  the  burden 
sung  by  every  sincere  and  thoughtful  worshipper  as  he 
ascended  the  hill  of  God  to  seek  forgiveness  of  his  sin, 
the  burden  which  the  Lord's  worshipping  congregation 
kept  on  its  tongue  throu;  h  all  the  ages,  till  at  length,  as 
the  angel  of  the  Lord  h:  d  opened  the  eyes  of  Abraham 
to  see  the  ram  provided,  the  voice  of  the  Baptist  "cry- 
ing in  the  wilderness"  to  a  fainting  and  well-nigh 
despairing  few  turned  their  eye  to  God's  great  pro- 
vision with  the  final  announcement,  "  Behold  the  Lamb 
of  God."  Let  us  accept  this  as  a  motto  which  we  may 
apply,  not  only  in  all  temporal  straits,  when  we  can  see 
no  escape  from  loss  and  misery,  but  also  in  all  spiritual 
emergency,  when  sin  seems  a  burden  too  great  for  us 
to  bear ,  and  when  we  seem  to  lie  under  the  uplifted 
knife  of  God's  judgment.     Let  us  remember  that  God's 


Gen.  xxii.]  SACRIFICE   OF  ISAAC.  21 1 

desire  is  not  that  we  suffer  pain,  but  that  we  learn 
obedience,  that  we  be  brought  to  that  true  and  thorough 
confidence  in  Him  which  may  fit  us  to  fulfil  His  lov- 
ing purposes.  iLet  us,  above  all,  remember  that  we 
cannot  know  the  grace  of  God,  cannot  experience  the 
abundant  provision  He  has  made  for  weak  and  sinful 
men,  until  we  have  climbed  the  mount  of  sacrifice  and 
are  able  to  commit  ourselves  wholly  to  Him.  |  Not  by 
attacking  our  manifold  enemies  one  by  one,  nor  by 
attempting  the  great  work  of  sanctification  piecemeal, 
shall  we  ever  make  much  growth  or  progress,  but  by 
giving  ourselves  up  wholly  to  God  and  by  becoming 
willing  to  live  in  Him  and  as  His. 


XVII. 

ISHMAEL  AND  ISAAC. 

Gen.  xxi.,  xxii. 

"  Abraham  had  two  sons,  the  one  by  a  bondmaid,  the  other  by  a 
freewoman.   *  *  *  Which  things  are  an  allegory." — Galatians  iv.  22. 

"  Abraham  stretched  forth  his  hand,  and  took  the  knife  to  slay  his 
son." — Genesis  xxii.  lo. 

IN  the  birth  of  Isaac,  Abraham  at  length  sees  the 
long-delayed  fulfilment  of  the  promise.  But  his 
trials  are  by  no  means  over.  He  has  himself  intro- 
duced into  his  family  the  seeds  of  discord  and  dis- 
turbance, and  speedily  the  fruit  is  borne,  Ishmael,  at 
the  birth  of  Isaac,  was  a  lad  of  fourteen  years,  and, 
reckoning  from  Eastern  customs,  he  must  have  been 
over  sixteen  when  the  feast  was  made  in  honour  of  the 
weaned  child.  Certainly  he  was  quite  old  enough  to 
understand  the  important  and  not  very  welcome  altera- 
tion in  his  prospects  which  the  birth  of  this  new  son 
effected.  He  had  been  brought  up  to  count  himself 
the  heir  of  all  the  wealth  and  influence  of  Abraham. 
There  was  no  ahenation  of  feeling  between  father  and 
son  :  no  shadow  had  flitted  over  the  bright  prospect 
of  the  boy  as  he  grew  up ;  when  suddenly  and  unex- 
pectedly there  was  interposed  between  him  and  his 
expectation  the  effectual  barrier  of  this  child  of  Sarah's. 
The  importance  of  this  child  to  the  family  was  in  due 


Gen.  xxi.,  xxii,]  ISHMAEL   AND  ISAAC.  213 

course  indicated  in  many  ways  offensive  to  Ishmael ; 
and  wlien  the  feast  was  made,  his  spleen  could  no 
longer  be  repressed.  This  weaning  was  the  first  step 
in  the  direction  of  an  independent  existence,  and  this 
would  be  the  point  of  the  feast  in  celebration.  The 
child  was  no  longer  a  mere  part  of  the  mother,  but 
an  individual,  a  member  of  the  family.  The  hopes  of 
the  parents  were  carried  forward  to  the  time  when  he 
should  be  quite  independent  of  them. 

But  in  all  this  there  was  great  food  for  the  ridicule 
of  a  thoughtless  lad.  It  was  precisely  the  kind  of  thing 
which  could  easily  be  mocked  without  any  great  ex- 
penditure of  wit  by  a  boy  of  Ishmael's  age.  The  too 
visible  pride  of  the  aged  mother,  the  incongruity  of 
maternal  duties  with  ninety  years,  the  concentration  of 
attention  and  honours  on  so  small  an  object, — all  this 
was,  doubtless,  a  temptation  to  a  boy  who  had  probably 
at  no  time  too  much  reverence.  But  the  words  and 
gestures  which  others  might  have  disregarded  as 
childish  frolic,  or,  at  worst,  as  the  unseemly  and  ill- 
natured  impertinence  of  a  boy  who  knew  no  better, 
stung  Sarah,  and  left  a  poison  in  her  blood  that  in- 
furiated her.  "  Cast  out  that  bondwoman  and  her  son," 
she  demanded  of  Abraham.  Evidently  she  feared  the 
rivalry  of  this  second  household  of  Abraham,  and  was 
resolved  it  should  come  to  an  end.  The  mocking  of 
Ishmael  is  but  the  violent  concussion  that  at  last  pro- 
duces the  explosion,  for  which  material  has  long  been 
laid  in  train.  She  had  seen  on  Abraham's  part  a 
clinging  to  Ishmael,  which  she  was  unable  to  appreciate. 
And  though  her  harsh  decision  was  nothing  more  than 
the  dictate  of  maternal  jealousy,  it  did  prevent  things 
from  running  on  as  they  were  until  even  a  more  painful 
family  quarrel  must   have  been  the  issue. 


214  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

The  act  of  expulsion  was  itself  unaccountably  harsh. 
There  was  nothing  to  prevent  Abraham  sending  the 
boy  and  his  mother  under  an  escort  to  some  safe  place  ; 
nothing  to  prevent  him  from  giving  the  lad  some  share 
of  his  possessions  sufficient  to  provide  for  him.  No- 
thing of  this  kind  was  done.  The  woman  and  the 
boy  were  simply  put  to  the  door ;  and  this,  although 
Ishmael  had  for  years  been  counted  Abraham's  heir, 
and  though  he  was  a  member  of  the  covenant  made 
with  Abraham.  There  may  have  been  some  law  giving 
Sarah  absolute  pov/er  over  her  maid  ;  but  if  any  law 
gave  her  power  to  do  what  was  now  done,  it  was  a 
thoroughly  barbarous  one,  and  she  was  a  barbarous 
woman  who  used  it. 

It  is  one  of  those  painful  cases  in  which  one  poor 
creature,  clothed  with  a  little  brief  authority,  stretches 
it  to  the  utmost  in  vindictive  maltreatment  of  another, 
Sarah  happened  to  be  mistress,  and,  instead  of  using 
her  position  to  make  those  under  her  happy,  she  used 
it  for  her  own  convenience,  for  the  gratification  of  her 
own  spite,  and  to  make  those  beneath  her  conscious 
of  her  power  by  their  suffering.  She  happened  to  be 
a  mother,  and  instead  of  bringing  her  into  sympathy 
with  all  women  and  their  children,  this  concentrated 
her  affection  with  a  fierce  jealousy  on  her  own  child. 
She  breathed  freely  when  Hagar  and  Ishmael  were 
fairly  out  of  sight.  A  smile  of  satisfied  malice  betrayed 
her  bitter  spirit.  No  thought  of  the  sufferings  to  which 
she  had  committed  a  woman  who  had  served  her  well 
fcr  years,  who  had  yielded  ever3^thing  to  her  will,  and 
who  had  no  other  natural  protector  but  her,  no  glimpses 
of  Abraham's  saddened  face,  visited  her  with  any 
relentings.  It  mattered  not  to  her  what  came  of  the 
woman  and  the  boy  to  whom  she  really  owed  a  more 


Gen.  xx!.,  xxli.]  ISHMAEL  AND  ISAAC.  215 

loving  and  careful  regard  than  to  any  except  Abraham 
and  Isaac.  It  is  a  story  often  repeated.  One  who  has 
been  a  member  of  the  household  for  many  years  is  at 
last  dismissed  at  the  dictate  of  some  petty  pique  or 
spite  as  remorselessly  and  inhumanly  as  a  piece  of  old 
furniture  might  be  parted  with.  Some  thoroughly  good 
servant,  who  has  m.ade  sacrifices  to  forward  his  em- 
ployer's interest,  is  at  last,  through  no  offence  of  his 
own,  found  to  be  in  his  employer's  way,  and  at  once 
all  old  services  are  forgotten,  all  old  ties  broken,  and 
the  authority  of  the  employer,  legal  but  inhuman,  is 
exercised.  It  is  often  those  who  can  least  defend 
themselves  who  are  thus  treated ;  no  resistance  is 
possible,  and  also,  alas  !  the  party  is  too  weak  to  face 
the  wilderness  on  which  she  is  thrown  out,  and  if  any 
cares  to  follow  her  history,  we  may  find  her  at  the  last 
gasp  under  a  bush. 

Still,  both  for  Abraham  and  for  Ishmael  it  was  better 
this  severance  should  take  place.  It  was  grievous  to 
Abraham;  and  Sarah  saw  that  for  this  very  reason  it  was 
necessary.  Ishmael  was  his  first-born,  and  for  many 
years  had  received  the  whole  of  his  parental  affection  : 
and,  looking  on  the  little  Isaac,  he  might  feel  the  de- 
sirableness of  keeping  another  son  in  reserve,  lest  this 
strangely-given  child  might  as  strangely  pass  away. 
Coming  to  him  in  a  way  so  unusual,  and  having  perhaps 
in  his  appearance  some  indication  of  his  peculiar  birth, 
he  might  seem  scarcely  fit  for  the  rough  life  Abraham 
himself  had  led.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  plain  that 
in  Ishmael  were  the  very  qualities  which  Isaac  was 
already  showing  that  he  lacked.  Already  Abraham 
was  observing  that  with  all  his  insolence  and  turbulence 
there  was  a  natural  force  and  independence  of  character 
which  might  come  to  be  most  useful  in  the  patriarchal 


2i6  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

household.  The  man  who  had  pursued  and  routed  the 
alHed  kmgs  could  not  but  be  drawn  to  a  youth  who 
already  gave  promise  of  capacity  for  similar  enterprises 
— and  this  youth  his  own  son.  But  can  Abraham  have 
failed  to  let  his  fancy  picture  the  deeds  this  lad  might 
one  day  do  at  the  head  of  his  armed  slaves  ?  And  may 
he  not  have  dreamt  of  a  glory  in  the  land  not  altogether 
such  as  the  promise  of  God  encouraged  him  to  look  for, 
but  such  as  the  tribes  around  would  acknowledge  and 
fear  ?  All  the  hopes  Abraham  had  of  Ishmael  had 
gained  firm  hold  of  his  mind  before  Isaac  was  born ; 
and  before  Isaac  grew  up,  Ishmael  must  have  taken 
the  most  influential  place  in  the  house  and  plans  of 
Abraham.  His  mind  would  thus  have  received  a  strong 
bias  towards  conquest  and  forcible  modes  of  advance. 
He  might  have  been  led  to  neglect,  and,  perhaps, 
finally  despise,  the  unostentatious  blessings  of  heaven. 
If,  then,  Abraham  was  to  become  the  founder,  not  of 
one  new  warlike  power  in  addition  to  the  already  too 
numerous  warlike  powers  of  the  East,  but  of  a  religion 
which  should  finally  develop  into  the  most  elevating 
and  purifying  influence  among  men,  it  is  obvious  that 
Ishmael  was  not  at  all  a  desirable  heir.  Whatever 
pain  it  gave  to  Abraham  to  part  with  him,  separation  in 
some  form  had  become  necessary.  It  was  impossible 
that  the  father  should  continue  to  enjoy  the  filial  affec- 
tion of  Ishmael,  his  lively  talk,  and  warm  enthusiasm, 
and  adventurous  exploits,  and  at  the  same  time  con- 
centrate his  hope  and  his  care  on  Isaac.  He  had, 
therefore,  to  give  up,  with  something  of  the  sorrow  and 
F elf-control  he  afterwards  underwent  in  connection  with 
the  sacrifice  of  Isaac,  the  lad  whose  bright  face  had  for 
so  many  years  shone  in  all  his  paths.  And  in  some 
such  way  are  we  often  called  to  part  with    prospects 


Gen.  xxi.,  xxii.]  ISHMAEL  AND  ISAAC.  217 

which  have  wrought  themselves  very  deep  into  our 
spirit,  and  which,  indeed,  just  because  they  are  very 
promising  and  seductive,  have  become  dangerous  to  us, 
upsetting  the  balance  of  our  life,  and  throwing  into  the 
shade  objects  and  purposes  which  ought  to  be  out- 
standing. And  when  we  are  thus  required  to  give  up 
what  we  were  looking  to  for  comfort,  for  applause,  and 
for  profit,  the  voice  of  God  in  its  first  admonition  some- 
times seems  to  us  little  better  than  the  jealousy  of  a 
woman.  Like  Sarah's  demand,  that  none  should  share 
with  her  son,  does  the  requirement  seem  which  indicates 
to  us  that  we  must  set  nothing  on  a  level  with  God's 
direct  gifts  to  us.  We  refuse  to  see  why  we  may  not 
have  all  the  pleasures  and  enjoyments,  all  the  display 
and  brilliance  that  the  world  can  give.  We  feel  as  if 
we  were  needlessly  restricted.  But  this  instance  shows 
us  that  when  circumstances  compel  us  to  give  up  some- 
thing of  this  kind  which  we  have  been  cherishing,  room 
is  given  for  a  better  thing  than  itself  to  grow. 

For  Ishmael  himself,  too,  wronged  as  he  was  in  the 
mode  of  his  expulsion,  it  was  yet  far  better  that  he 
should  go.  Isaac  was  the  true  heir.  No  jeering  allu- 
sions to  his  late  birth  or  to  his  appearance  could  alter 
that  fact.  And  to  a  temper  like  Ishmael's  it  was  im- 
possible to  occupy  a  subordinate,  dependent  position. 
All  he  required  to  call  out  his  latent  powers  was  tc 
be  thrown  thus  on  his  own  resources.  The  daring  and 
high  spirit  and  quickness  to  take  offence  and  use 
violence,  which  would  have  wrought  untold  mischief  in 
a  pastoral  camp,  were  the  very  qualities  which  found 
fit  exercise  in  the  desert,  and  seemed  there  only  in 
keeping  with  the  life  he  had  to  lead.  And  his  hard 
experience  at  first  would  at  his  age  do  him  no  harm, 
but  good  only.     To  be  compelled  to  face   life  single- 


2i8  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

handed  at  the  age  of  sixteen  is  by  no  means  a  fate 
to  be  pitied.  It  was  the  making  of  Ishmael,  and  is 
the  making  of  many  a  lad  in  every  generation. 

But  the  two  fugitives  are  soon  reminded  that,  though 
expelled  from  Abraham's  tents  and  protection,  they  are 
not  expelled  from  his  God.  Ishmael  finds  it  true  that 
when  father  and  mother  forsake  him,  the  Lord  takes 
him  up.  At  the  very  outset  of  his  desert  life  he  is  made 
conscious  that  God  is'  still  his  God,  mindful  of  his 
wants,  responsive  to  his  cry  of  distress.  It  was  not 
through  Ishmael  the  promised  seed  was  to  come,  but 
the  descendants  of  Ishmael  had  every  inducement  to 
retain  faith  in  the  God  of  Abraham,  who  listened  to 
their  father's  cry.  The  fact  of  being  excluded  from 
certain  privileges  did  not  involve  that  they  were  to 
be  excluded  from  all  privileges.  God  still  "  heard  the 
voice  of  the  lad,  and  the  angel  of  God  called  to  Hagar 
out  of  heaven." 

It  is  this  voice  of  God  to  Hagar  that  so  speedily, 
and  apparently  once  for  all,  lifts  her  out  of  despair 
to  cheerful  hope.  It  would  appear  as  if  her  despair 
had  been  needless  ;  at  least  from  the  words  addressed 
to  her,  "What  aileth  thee,  Hagar?"  it  would  appear 
as  if  she  might  herself  have  found  the  water  that  was 
close  at  hand,  if  only  she  had  been  disposed  to  look 
for  it.  But  she  had  lost  heart,  and  perhaps  with  her 
despair  was  mingled  some  resentment,  not  only  at 
Sarah,  but  at  the  whole  Hebrew  connection,  including 
the  God  of  the  Hebrews,  who  had  before  encouraged 
her.  Here  was  the  end  of  the  magnificent  promise 
which  that  God  had  made  her  before  her  child  was 
born — a  helpless  human  form  gasping  its  life  away 
without  a  drop  of  water  to  moisten  the  parched  tongue 
and  bring  light  to  the  glazing  eyes,  and  with  no  easier 


Gen.  xxi.,  xxii.]  ISHMAEL   AND  ISAAC.  219 

couch  than  the  burning  sand.  Was  it  for  this,  the 
bitterest  drop  that,  apart  from  sin,  can  be  given  to 
any  parent  to  drink,  she  had  been  brought  from  Egypt 
and  led  through  all  her  past  ?  Had  her  hopes  been 
nursed  by  means  so  extraordinary  only  that  they 
might  be  so  bitterly  blighted  ?  Thus  she  leapt  to  her 
conclusions,  and  judged  that  because  her  skin  of  water 
had  failed  God  had  failed  her  too.  No  one  can  blame 
her,  with  her  boy  dying  before  her,  and  herself  help- 
less to  relieve  one  pang  of  his  suffering.  Hitherto  in 
the  well-furnished  tents  of  Abraham  she  had  been  able 
to  respond  to  his  slightest  desire.  Thirst  he  had 
never  known,  save  as  the  relish  to  some  boyish 
adventure.  But  now,  when  his  eyes  appeal  to  her  in 
dying  anguish,  she  can  but  turn  away  in  helpless 
despair.  She  cannot  relieve  his  simplest  want.  Not 
for  her  own  fate  has  she  any  tears,  but  to  see  her 
pride,  her  life  and  joy,  perishing  thus  miserably,  is 
more  than  she  can  bear. 

No  one  can  blame,  but  every  one  may  learn  from 
her.  When  angry  resentment  and  unbelieving  despair 
fill  the  mind,  we  may  perish  of  thirst  in  the  midst  of 
springs.  When  God's  promises  produce  no  faith,  but 
seem  to  us  so  much  waste  paper,  we  are  necessarily  in 
danger  of  missing  their  fulfilment.  When  we  ascribe 
to  God  the  harshness  and  wickedness  of  those  who 
represent  Him  in  the  world,  we  commit  moral  suicide. 
So  far  from  the  promises  given  to  Hagar  being  now  at 
the  point  of  extinction,  this  was  the  first  considerable 
step  towards  their  fulfilment.  When  Ishmael  turned 
his  back  on  the  familiar  tents,  and  flung  his  last  gibe 
at  Sarah,  he  was  really  setting  out  to  a  far  richer 
inheritance,  so  far  as  this  world  goes,  than  ever  fell 
to  Isaac  and  his  sons, 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


But  the  chief  use  Paul  makes  of  this  entire  episode 
in  the  history  is  to  see  in  it  an  allegory,  a  kind  of 
picture  made  up  of  real  persons  and  events,  repre- 
senting the  impossibility  of  law  and  gospel  living 
harmoniously  together,  the  incompatibility  of  a  spirit  of 
service  with  a  spirit  of  sonship.  Hagar,  he  says,  is  in 
this  picture  the  hkeness  of  the  law  given  from  Sinai, 
which  gendereth  to  bondage.  Hagar  and  her  son, 
that  is  to  say,  stand  for  the  law  and  the  kind  of 
righteousness  produced  by  the  law, — not  superficially 
a  bad  kind ;  on  the  contrary,  a  righteousness  with 
much  dash  and  brilliance  and  strong  manly  force 
about  it,  but  at  the  root  defective,  faulty  in  its  origin, 
springing  from  the  slavish  spirit.  And  first  Paul  bids 
us  notice  how  the  free-born  is  persecuted  and  mocked 
by  the  slave-born,  that  is,  how  the  children  of  God 
who  are  trying  to  live  by  love  and  faith  in  Christ  are 
put  to  shame  and  made  uneasy  by  the  law.  They 
believe  they  are  God's  dear  children,  that  they  are 
loved  by  Him,  and  may  go  out  and  in  freely  in  His 
house  as  their  own  home,  using  all  that  is  His  with 
the  freedom  of  His  heirs ;  but  the  law  mocks  them, 
frightens  them,  tells  them  //  is  God's  first-born,  law 
lying  far  b^ck  in  the  dimness  of  eternity,  coeval  with 
God  Himself.  It  tells  them  they  are  puny  and  weak, 
scarcely  out  of  their  mother's  arms,  tottering,  lisping 
creatures,  doing  much  mischief,  but  none  of  the  house- 
work, at  best  only  getting  some  Httle  thing  to  pretend 
to  work  at.  In  contrast  to  their  feeble,  soft,  unskilled 
weakness,  it  sets  before  them  a  finely-moulded,  athletic 
form,  becoming  disciplined  to  all  work,  and  able  to 
take  a  place  among  the  serviceable  and  able-bodied. 
But  with  all  this  there  is  in  that  puny  babe  a  life  begun 
which  will  grow  and  make  it  the  true  heir,  dwelling  in 


Gen.  xxi.,  xxii.]  ISHMAEL  AND  ISAAC.  221 

the  house  and  possessing  what  it  has  not  toiled  for, 
while  the  vigorous,  likely-looking  lad  must  go  into  the 
wilderness  and  make  a  possession  for  himself  with  his 
own  bow  and  spear. 

Now,  of  course,  righteousness  of  life  and  character, 
or  perfect  manhood,  is  the  end  at  which  all  that  we 
call  salvation  aims,  and  that  which  can  give  us  the 
purest,  ripest  character  is  salvation  for  us  ;  that  which 
can  make  us,  for  all  purposes,  most  serviceable  and 
strong.  And  when  we  are  confronted  with  persons 
who  might  speak  of  service  we  cannot  render,  of  an 
upright,  unfaltering  carriage  we  cannot  assume,  of  a 
general  human  worthiness  we  can  make  no  pretension 
to,  we  are  justly  perturbed,  and  should  regain  our 
equanimity  only  under  the  influence  of  the  most 
undoubted  truth  and  fact.  If  we  can  honestly  say  in 
our  hearts,  "  Although  we  can  show  no  such  work 
done,  and  no  such  masculine  growth,  yet  we  have  a 
life  in  us  which  is  of  God,  and  will  grow ; "  if  we  are 
sure  that  we  have  the  spirit  of  God's  children,  a  spirit 
of  love  and  dutifulness,  we  may  take  comfort  from  this 
incident.  We  may  remind  ourselves  that  it  is  not  he 
who  has  at  the  present  moment  the  best  appearance 
who  always  abides  in  the  father's  home,  but  he  who  is 
by  birth  the  heir.  Have  we  or  have  we  not  the  spirit 
of  the  Son  ?  not  feeling  that  we  must  every  evening 
make  good  our  claim  to  another  night's  lodging  by 
showing  the  task  we  have  accomplished,  but  being 
conscious  that  the  interests  in  which  we  are  called  to 
work  are  our  own  interests,  that  we  are  heirs  in  the 
father's  house,  so  that  all  we  do  for  the  house  is  really 
done  for  ourselves.  Do  we  go  out  and  in  with  God, 
feeling  no  need  of  His  commands,  our  own  eye  seeing 
where   help  is   required,   and    our   own    desires   being 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


wholly  directed  towards  that    which  engages    all  His 
attention  and  work  ? 

For  Paul  would  have  each  of  us  apply,  allegorically, 
the  words,  Cast  out  the  bondwoman  and  her  son,  that 
is,  cast  out  the  legal  mode  of  earning  a  standing  in 
God's  house,  and  with  this  legal  mode  cast  out  all  the 
self-seeking,  the  servile  fear  of  God,  the  self-righteous- 
ness, and  the  hard-heartedness  it  engenders.     Cast  out 
wholly  from  yourself  the  spirit  of  the  slave,  and  cherish 
the  spirit  of  the  son  and  heir.     The  slave-born   may 
seem  for  a  while  to  have  a  firm  footing  in  the  father's 
house,  but  it  cannot  last.     The  temper  and  tastes  of 
Ishmael  are  radically  different  from  those  of  Abraham, 
and    when    the   slave-born  becomes  mature,  the  wild 
Egyptian   strain  will  appear  in  his  character.      More- 
over, he  looks  upon  the  goods  of  Abraham  as  plunder ; 
he  cannot  rid   himself  of  the  feeling  of  an  alien,  and 
this  would,  at  length,  show  itself  in  a  want  of  frank- 
ness with  Abraham — slowly,  but  surely,  the  confidence 
between  them  would  be  worn  out.     Nothing  but  being 
a  child  of  God,  being  born  of  the  Spirit,  can  give  the 
feeling  of  intimacy,  confidence,  unity  of  interest,  which 
constitutes  true  religion.     All  we  do  as  slaves  goes  for 
nothing ;  that  is  to  say,  all  we  do,  not  because  we  see 
the  good  of  it,  but  because  we  are  commanded ;  not 
because  we  have  any  liking  for  the   thing   done,   but 
because  we  wish  to  be  paid  for  it.     The  day  is  coming 
when  we  shall  attain  our  majority,  when  it  will  be  said 
to  us  by  God,  Now,  do  whatever  you  like,  whatever 
you  have  a  mind  to  ;    no  surveillance,  no  commands 
are    now    needed ;    I    put    all    into    your    own    hand. 
What,  in  these  circumstances,  should  we  straightway 
do?     Should  we,  for  the  love  of  the  thing,  carry  on  the 
same  work  to  which  God's  commands  had  driven  us ; 


Gen.  xxi.,  xxii.]  ISHMAEL   AND  ISAAC.  223 

should  we,  if  left  absolutely  in  charge,  find  nothing 
more  attractive  than  just  to  prosecute  that  idea  of  life 
and  the  world  set  before  us  by  Christ  ?  Or,  should 
we  see  that  we  had  merely  been  keeping  ourselves  in 
check  for  a  while,  biding  our  time,  untamed  as  Ishmael, 
craving  the  rewards  but  not  the  life  of  the  children 
of  God  ?  The  most  serious  of  all  questions  these — 
questions  that  determine  the  issues  of  our  whole  life, 
that  determine  whether  our  home  is  to  be  where  all 
the  best  interests  of  men  and  the  highest  blessings  of 
God  have  their  seat,  or  in  the  pathless  desert  where 
life  is  an  aimless  wandering,  dissociated  from  all  the 
forward  movements  of  men. 

The  distinction  between  the  servile  spirit  and  the 
spirit  of  sonship  being  thus  radical,  it  could  be  by  no 
mere  formality,  or  exhibition  of  his  legal  title,  that 
Isaac  became  the  heir  of  God's  heritage.  His  sacrifice 
on  Moriah  was  the  requisite  condition  of  his  succession 
to  Abraham's  place ;  it  was  the  only  suitable  cele- 
bration of  his  majority.  Abraham  himself  had  been 
able  to  enter  into  covenant  with  God  only  by  sacrifice  ; 
and  sacrifice  not  of  a  dead  and  external  kind,  but 
vivified  by  an  actual  surrender  of  himself  to  God,  and 
by  so  true  a  perception  of  God's  holiness  and  require- 
ments, that  he  was  in  a  horror  of  great  darkness.  By 
no  other  process  can  any  of  his  heirs  succeed  to  the 
inheritance.  A  true  resignation  of  self,  in  whatever 
outward  form  this  resignation  may  appear,  is  required 
that  we  may  become  one  with  God  in  His  holy  purposes 
and  in  His  eternal  blessedness.  There  could  be  no 
doubt  that  Abraham  had  found  a  true  heir,  when  Isaac 
laid  himself  on  the  altar  and  steadied  his  heart  to 
receive  the  knife.  Dearer  to  God,  and  of  immeasurably 
greater  value  than  any  service,  was  this  surrender  of 


224  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

himself  into  the  hand  of  his  Father  and  his  God.  In 
this  was  promise  of  all  service  and  all  loving  fellow- 
ship. "  Precious  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the  death 
of  His  saints.  O  Lord,  truly  I  am  Thy  servant ;  I  am 
Thy  servant,  the  son  of  Thine  handmaid  :  Thou  hast 
loosed  my  bonds." 

So  incomparable  with  the  most  distinguished  service 
did  this  sacrifice  of  Isaac's  self  appear,  that  the  record 
of  his  active  life  seems  to  have  had  no  interest  to  his 
contemporaries  or  successors.  There  was  but  this  one 
thing  to  say  of  him.  No  more  seemed  needful.  The 
sacrifice  was  indeed  great,  and  worthy  of  commemora- 
tion. No  act  could  so  conclusively  have  shown  that 
Isaac  was  thoroughly  at  one  with  God.  He  had  much 
to  live  for;  from  his  birth  there  hovered  around  him 
interests  and  hopes  of  the  most  exciting  and  flattering 
nature  ;  a  new  kind  of  glory  such  as  had  not  yet  been 
attained  on  earth  was  to  be  attained,  or,  at  any  rate, 
approached  in  him.  This  glory  was  certain  to  be 
realised,  being  guaranteed  by  God's  promise,  so  that 
his  hopes  might  launch  out  in  the  boldest  confidence 
and  give  him  the  aspect  and  bearing  of  a  king  ;  while 
it  was  uncertain  in  the  time  and  manner  of  its 
realisation,  so  that  the  most  attractive  mystery  hung 
around  his  future.  Plainly  his  was  a  life  worth 
entering  on  and  living  through  ;  a  life  fit  to  engage 
and  absorb  a  man's  whole  desire,  interest,  and  effort  ; 
a  life  such  as  might  well  make  a  man  gird  himself  and 
resolve  to  play  the  man  throughout,  that  so  each  part 
of  it  might  reveal  its  secret  to  him,  and  that  none  of  its 
wonder  might  be  lost.  It  was  a  life  which,  above  all 
others,  seemed  worth  protecting  from  all  injury  and 
risk,  and  for  which,  no  doubt,  not  a  few  of  the  home- 
born  servants   in  the  patriarchal   encampment    would 


Gen.  xxi.,  xxii.]  ISHMAEL  AND  ISAAC.  223 

have  gladly  ventured  their  own.  There  have,  indeed, 
been  few,  if  any,  lives  of  which  it  could  so  truly  be 
said.  The  world  cannot  do  without  this — at  all  hazards 
and  costs  this  must  be  cherisi.ed.  And  all  this  must 
have  been  even  more  obvious  to  its  owner  than  to 
any  one  else,  and  must  have  begotten  in  him  an  un- 
questioning assurance,  that  he  at  least  had  a  charmed 
life,  and  would  live  and  see  good  days.  Yet  with 
whatever  shock  the  command  of  God  came  upon  him, 
there  is  no  word  of  doubt  or  remonstrance  or  rebellion. 
He  gave  his  life  to  Him  who  had  first  given  it  to  him. 
And  thus  yielding  himself  to  God,  he  entered  into  the 
inheritance,  and  became  worthy  to  stand  to  all  time  the 
representative  heir  of  God,  as  Abraham  by  his  faith 
had  become  the  father  of  the  faithful. 


XVIII. 

PURCHASE    OF  MACHPELAH. 

Genesis  xxiii. 

IT  may  be  supposed  to  be  a  needless  observation  that 
our  life  is  greatly  influenced  by  thqif  act  that  it 
speedily  and  certainly  ends  in  death.  But  it  might  be 
interesting,  and  it  would  certainly  be  surprising,  to  trace 
out  the  various  ways  in  which  this  fact  influences  life. 
Plainly  every  human  affair  would  be  altered  if  we  lived 
on  here  for  ever,  supposing  that  were  possible.  What 
the  world  would  be  had  we  no  predecessors,  no  wisdom 
but  what  our  own  past  experience  and  the  genius  of 
one  generation  of  men  could  produce,  we  can  scarcely 
imagine.  We  can  scarcely  imagine  what  life  would  be 
or  what  the  world  would  be  did  not  one  generation 
succeed  and  oust  another  and  were  we  contemporary 
with  the  whole  process  of  history.  It  is  the  grand 
irreversible  and  universal  law  that  we  give  place  and 
make  room  for  others.  The  individual  passes  away, 
but  the  history  of  the  race  proceeds.  Here  on  earth 
in  the  meantime,  and  not  elsewhere,  the  history  of  the 
race  is  being  played  out,  and  each  having  done  his 
part,  however  small  or  however  great,  passes  away. 
Whether  an  individual,  even  the  most  gifted  and  power- 
ful, could  continue  to  be  helpful  to  the  race  for  thou- 
sands of  years,  supposing  his  life  were  continued,  it  is 


Gen.xxiii.l  PURCHASE   OF  MACHPELAH.  227 

needless  to  inquire.  Perhaps  as  steam  has  force  only 
at  a  certain  pressure,  so  human  force  requires  the  con- 
densation of  a  brief  life  to  give  it  elastic  energy.  But 
these  are  idle  speculations.  They  show  us,  however, 
that  our  life  beyond  death  will  be  not  so  much  a  pro- 
longation of  life  as  we  now  know  it  as  an  entire  change 
in  the  form  of  our  existence ;  and  they  show  us  also 
that  our  little  piece  of  the  world's  work  must  be  quickly 
done  if  it  is  to  be  done  at  all,  and  that  it  will  not  be 
done  at  all  unless  we  take  our  life  seriously  and  own 
the  responsibilities  we  have  to  ourselves,  to  our  fellows, 
to  our  God. 

Death  comes  sadly  to  the  survivor,  even  when  there 
is  as  little  untimeliness  as  in  the  case  of  Sarah  ;  and 
as  Abraham  moved  towards  the  familiar  tent  the  most 
intimate  of  his  household  would  stand  aloof  and  respect 
his  grief.  The  stillness  that  struck  upon  him,  instead 
of  the  usual  greeting,  as  he  lifted  the  tent-door;  the 
dead  order  of  all  inside ;  the  one  object  that  lay  stark 
before  him  and  drew  him  again  and  again  to  look  on 
what  grieved  him  most  to  see ;  the  chill  which  ran 
through  him  as  his  lips  touched  the  cold,  stony  forehead 
and  gave  him  sensible  evidence  how  gone  was  the  spirit 
from  the  clay — these  are  shocks  to  the  human  heart 
not  peculiar  to  Abraham.  But  few  have  been  so 
strangely  bound  together  as  these  two  were,  or  have 
been  so  manifestly  given  to  one  another  by  God,  or  have 
been  forced  to  so  close  a  mutual  dependence.  Not  only 
had  they  grown  up  in  the  same  family,  and  been  together 
separated  from  their  kindred,  and  passed  through  un- 
usual and  difficult  circumstances  together,  but  they 
were  made  co-heirs  of  God's  promise  in  such  a  manner 
that  neither  could  enjoy  it  without  the  other.  They 
were  knit  together,  not  merely  by  natural  liking  and 


228  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

familiarity  of  intercourse,  but  by  God's  choosing  them 
as  the  instrument  of  His  work  and  the  fountain  of  His 
salvation.  So  that  in  Sarah's  death  Abraham  doubtless 
read  an  intimation  that  his  own  work  was  done,  and 
that  his  generation  is  now  out  of  date  and  ready  to  be 
supplanted. 

Abraham's  grief  is  interrupted  by  the  sad  but  whole- 
some necessity  which  forces  us  from  the  blank  desola- 
tion of  watching  by  the  dead  to  the  active  duties  that 
follow.  She  whose  beauty  had  captivated  two  princes 
must  now  be  buried  out  of  sight.  So  Abraham  stands 
up  from  before  his  dead.  Such  a  moment  requires  the 
resolute  fortitude  and  manly  self-control  which  that  ex- 
pression seems  intended  to  suggest.  There  is  some- 
thing within  us  which  rebels  against  the  ordinary 
ongoing  of  the  world  side  by  side  with  our  great  woe ; 
we  feel  as  if  either  the  v/hole  world  must  mourn  with 
us,  or  we  must  go  aside  from  the  world  and  have  our 
grief  out  in  private.  The  bustle  of  life  seems  so 
meaningless  and  incongruous  to  one  whom  grief  has 
emptied  of  all  relish  for  it.  We  seem  to  wrong  the 
dead  by  every  return  of  interest  we  show  in  the  things 
of  life  which  no  longer  interest  him.  Yet  he  speaks 
truly  who  says  : — 

*'  When  sorrow  all  our  heart  would  ask, 
We  need  not  shun  our  daily  task, 

And  hide  ourselves  for  calm  ; 
The  herbs  we  seek  to  heal  our  woe, 
Familiar  by  our  pathway  grow, 

Our  common  air  is  balm." 

We  must  resume  our  duties,  not  as  if  nothing  had 
happened,  not  proudly  forgetting  death  and  putting 
grief  aside  as  if  this  life  did  not  need  the  chastening 
influence   of  such  realities  as  we  have  been  engaged 


Gen.xxiii.]  PURCHASE   OF  MACHPELAH.  229 

with,  or  as  if  its  business  could  not  be  pursued  in 
an  affectionate  and  softened  spirit,  but  acknowledging 
death  as  real  and  as  humbling  and  sobering. 

Abraham  then  goes  forth  to  seek  a  grave  for  Sarah, 
having  already  with  a  common  predilection  fixed  on 
the  spot  where  he  himself  would  prefer  to  be  laid.  He 
goes  accordingly  to  the  usual  meeting-place  or  exchange 
of  these  times,  the  city-gate,  where  bargains  were  made, 
and  where  witnesses  for  their  ratification  could  always 
be  had.  Men  who  are  familiar  with  Eastern  customs 
rather  spoil  for  us  the  scene  described  in  this  chapter 
by  assuring  us  that  all  these  courtesies  and  large  offers 
are  merely  the  ordinary  forms  preliminary  to  a  bargain, 
and  were  as  little  meant  to  be  literally  understood  as 
we  mean  to  be  literally  understood  when  we  sign  our- 
selves "your  most  obedient  servant."  Abraham  asks 
the  Hittite  chiefs  to  approach  Ephron  on  the  subject, 
because  all  bargains  of  the  kind  are  negotiated  through 
mediators.  Ephron's  offer  of  the  cave  and  field  is 
merely  a  form.  Abraham  quite  understood  that  Ephron 
only  indicated  his  willingness  to  deal,  and  so  he  urges 
him  to  state  his  price,  which  Ephron  is  not  slow  to  do  ; 
and  apparently  his  price  was  a  handsome  one  such  as 
he  could  not  have  asked  from  a  poorer  man,  for  he  adds, 
"  What  are  four  hundred  shekels  between  wealthy  men 
like  you  and  me  ?  Without  more  words  let  the  bargain 
be  closed — bury  thy  dead." 

The  first  landed  property,  then,  of  the  patriarchs  is 
a  grave.  In  this  tomb  were  la'd  Abraham  and  Sarah, 
Isaac  and  Rebecca ;  here,  too,  Jacob  buried  Leah,  and 
here  Jacob  himself  desired  to  be  laid  after  his  death, 
his  last  words  being,  "  Bury  mf  with  my  fathers  in  the 
cave  that  is  in  the  field  of  Epliron  the  Hittite."  This 
grave,    therefore,    becomes    the    centre    of  the    land. 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


Where  the  dust  of  our  fathers  is,  there  is  our  country ; 
and  as  you  may  often  hear  aged  persons,  who  are  con- 
tent to  die  and  have  little  else  to  pray  for,  still  express 
a  wish  that  they  may  rest  in  the  old  well-remembered 
churchyard  where  their  kindred  lie,  and  may  thus  in 
the  weakness  of  death  find  some  comfort,  and  in  its 
solitariness  some  companionship  from  the  presence  of 
those  who  tenderly  sheltered  the  helplessness  of  their 
childhood ;  so  does  this  place  of  the  dead  become 
henceforth  the  centre  of  attraction  for  all  Abraham's 
seed  to  which  still  from  Egypt  their  longings  and  hopes 
turn,  as  to  the  one  magnetic  point  which,  having  once 
been  fixed  there,  binds  them  ever  to  the  land.  It  is 
this  grave  which  binds  them  to  the  land.  This  laying 
of  Sarah  in  the  tomb  is  the  real  occupation  of  the  land. 

During  the  lapse  of  ages,  all  around  this  spot  has 
been  changed  again  and  again  ;  but  at  some  rem»ote 
period,  possibly  as  early  as  the  time  of  David,  the 
reverence  of  the  Jews  built  these  tombs  round  with 
masonry  so  substantial  that  it  still  endures.  Within 
the  space  thus  enclosed  there  stood  for  long  a  Christian 
church,  but  since  the  Mohammedan  domination  was 
established,  a  mosque  has  covered  the  spot.  This 
mosque  has  been  guarded  against  Christian  intrusion 
with  a  jealousy  almost  as  rigid  as  that  which  excludes 
all  unbelievers  from  approaching  Mecca.  And  though 
the  Prince  of  Wales  was  a  few  years  ago  allowed  to 
enter  the  mosque,  he  was  not  permitted  to  make  any 
examination  of  the  vaults  beneath,  where  the  original 
tomb  must  be. 

It  is  evident  that  this  narrative  of  the  purchase  of 
Machpelah  and  the  burial  of  Sarah  was  preserved,  not 
so  much  on  account  of  the  personal  interest  which  Abra- 
ham had  in  these  matters,  as  on  acconr.  'of  the  manifest 


Gen.  xxiii.]  PURCHASE   OF  MACHPELAH.  231 

significance  they  had  in  connection  with  the  history  of 
his  faith.  He  had  recently  heard  from  his  own  kindred 
in  Mesopotamia,  and  it  might  very  naturally  have 
occurred  to  him  that  the  proper  place  to  bury  Sarah 
was  in  his  fatherland.  The  desire  to  lie  among  one's 
people  is  a  very  strong  Eastern  sentiment.  Even  tribes 
which  have  no  dislike  to  emigration  make  provision 
that  at  death  their  bodies  shall  be  restored  to  their 
own  country.  The  Chinese  notoriously  do  so.  Abraham, 
therefore,  could  hardly  have  expressed  his  faith  in  a 
stronger  form  than  by  purchasing  a  burying-ground  for 
himself  in  Canaan.  It  was  equivalent  to  saying  in  the 
most  emphatic  form  that  he  believed  this  country  would 
remain  in  perpetuity  the  country  of  his  children  and 
people.  He  had  as  yet  given  no  such  pledge  as  this  was, 
that  he  had  irrevocably  abandoned  his  fatherland.  He 
had  bought  no  other  landed  property  ;'  ,^  had  built  no 
house.  He  shifted  his  encampment  from  place  to  place 
as  convenience  dictated,  and  there  was  nothing  to 
hinder  him  from  returning  at  any  time  to  his  old 
country.  But  now  he  fixed  himself  down ;  he  said, 
as  plainly  as  acts  can  say,  that  his  mind  was  made  up 
that  this  was  to  be  in  all  time  coming  his  land ;  this 
was  no  mere  right  of  pasture  rented  for  the  season,  no 
mere  waste  land  he  might  occupy  with  his  tents  till  its 
owner  wished  to  reclaim  it ;  it  was  no  estate  he  could 
put  into  the  market  whenever  trade  should  become  dull 
and  he  might  wish  to  realise  or  to  leave  the  country  ; 
but  it  was  a  kind  of  property  v/hich  he  could  not  sell 
and  could  not  abandon. 

Again,  his  determination  to  hold  it  in  perpetuity  is 
evident  not  only  from  the  nature  of  the  property,  but 
also  from  the  formal  purchase  and  conveyance  of  it — the 
complete  and  precise  terms  in  which  the  transaction  is 


232  THE  BOOK   OF  GENESIS. 

completed.  The  narrative  is  careful  to  remind  us  again 
and  again  that  the  whr-le  transaction  was  negotiated 
in  the  audience  of  the  i  eople  of  the  land,  of  all  those 
who  went  in  at  the  gate,  that  the  sale  was  thoroughly 
approved  and  witnessed  by  competent  authorities.  The 
precise  subjects  made  over  to  Abraham  are  also  detailed 
with  all  the  accuracy  of  a  legal  document — "  the  field 
of  Ephron,  which  was  in  Machpelah,  which  was  before 
Mamre,  the  field  and  the  cave  which  was  therein,  and 
all  the  trees  that  were  in  the  field,  that  were  in  all  the 
borders  round  about,  were  made  sure  unto  Abraham 
for  a  possession  in  the  presence  of  the  children  of  Heth, 
before  all  that  went  in  at  the  gate  of  his  city."  Abraham 
had  no  doubt  of  the  friendliness  of  such  men  as  Aner, 
Eshcol,  and  Mamre,  his  ancient  allies,  but  he  was  also 
aware  that  the  best  way  to  maintain  friendly  relations 
was  to  leave  no  loophole  by  which  difference  of  opinion 
or  disagreement  might  enter.  Let  the  thing  be  in  black 
and  white,  so  that  there  may  be  no  misunderstanding 
as  to  terms,  no  expectations  doomed  to  be  unfulfilled, 
r.o  encroachments  which  must  cause  resentment,  if  not 
retaliation.  Law  probably  does  more  to  prevent  quarrels 
than  to  heal  them.  As  statesmen  and  historians  tell 
us  that  the  best  way  to  secure  peace  is  to  be  prepared 
for  war,  so  legal  documents  seem  no  doubt  harsh 
and  unfriendly,  but  really  are  more  effective  in  main- 
taining peace  and  friendliness  than  vague  promises 
and  benevolent  intentions.  In  arranging  affairs  and 
engagements  one  is  always  tempted  to  say.  Never  mind 
about  the  money,  see  how  the  thing  turns  out  and  we 
can  settle  that  by-and-bye  ;  or,  in  looking  at  a  will, 
one  is  tempted  to  ask,  of  what  strength  is  Christian 
feeling — not  to  say  family  affection — if  all  these  hard- 
and-fast  lines  need  to  be  drawn  round  the  little  bit  of 


Gen.xxiii.]  PURCHASE   OF  MACHPELAIL  233 

property  which  each  is  to  have  ?  But  experience  shows 
that  this  is  false  dehcacy,  and  that  kindhness  and 
charity  may  be  as  fully  and  far  more  safely  expressed 
in  definite  and  legal  terms  than  in  loose  promises  or 
mere  understandings. 

Again,  Abraham's  idea  in  purchasing  this  sepulchre 
is  brought  out  by  the  circumstance  that  he  would  not 
accept  the  offer  of  the  children  of  Heth  to  use  one  of 
their  sepulchres.  This  was  not  pride  of  blood  or  any 
feeling  of  that  sort,  but  the  right  feeling  that  what  God 
had  promised  as  His  own  peculiar  gift  must  not  seem 
to  be  given  by  men.  Possibly  no  great  harm  might 
have  come  of  it  if  Abraham  had  accepted  the  gift  of 
a  mere  cave,  or  a  shelf  in  some  other  man's  burying- 
ground ;  but  Abraham  could  not  bear  to  think  that  any 
captious  person  should  ever  be  able  to  say  that  the 
inheritance  promised  by  God  was  really  the  gift  of  a 
Hittite. 

Similar  captiousncss  appears  not  only  in  the  ex- 
perience of  the  individual  Christian,  but  also  in  the 
treatment  religion  gets  from  the  world.  It  is  quite 
apparent,  that  is  to  say,  that  the  world  counts  itself 
the  real  proprietor  here,  and  Christianity  a  stranger 
fortunately  or  unfortunately  thrown  upon  its  shores 
and  upon  its  vicrcy.  One  cannot  miss  noticing  the 
patronising  way  of  the  world  towards  the  Church  and 
all  that  is  connected  with  it,  as  if  it  alone  could  give 
it  those  things  needful  for  its  prosperity — and  especially 
willing  is  it  to  come  forward  in  the  Hittite  fashion 
and  offer  to  the  sojourner  a  sepulchre  where  it  may 
be  decently  buried,  and  as  a  dead  thing  lie  out  of  the 
way. 

But  thoughts  of  a  still  wider  reach  were  no  doubt 
suggested  to  Abraham  by  this  purchase.     Often  must 


234  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

he  have  brooded  on  the  sacrifice  of  Isaac,  seeking  to 
exhaust  its  meaning.  Many  a  talk  in  the  dusk  must 
his  son  and  he  have  had  about  that  most  strange 
experience.  And  no  doubt  the  one  thing  that  seemed 
always  certain  about  it  was,  that  it  is  through  death 
a  man  truly  becomes  the  heir  of  God ;  and  here  again 
in  this  purchase  of  a  tomb  for  Sarah  it  is  the  same 
fact  that  stares  him  in  the  face.  He  becomes  a  pro- 
prietor when  death  enters  his  family ;  he  himself,  he 
feels,  is  likely  to  have  no  more  than  this  burial-acre 
of  possession  of  his  land  ;  it  is  only  by  dying  he  enters 
on  actual  possession.  Till  then  he  is  but  a  tenant,  not 
a  proprietor;  as  he  says  to  the  children  of  Heth,  he 
is  but  a  stranger  and  a  sojourner  among  them,  but  at 
death  he  will  take  up  his  permanent  dwelling  in  their 
midst.  Was  this  not  to  suggest  to  him  that  there 
might  be  a  deeper  meaning  underlying  this,  and  that 
possibly  it  was  only  by  death  he  could  enter  fully  into 
all  that  God  intended  he  should  receive  ?  No  doubt  in 
the  first  instance  it  was  a  severe  trial  to  his  faith  to 
find  that  even  at  his  wife's  death  he  had  acquired  no 
firmer  foothold  in  the  land.  No  doubt  it  was  the  very 
triumph  of  his  faith  that  though  he  himself  had  never 
had  a  settled,  permanent  residence  in  the  land,  but  had 
dwelt  in  tents,  moving  about  from  place  to  place,  just 
as  he  had  done  the  first  year  of  his  entrance  upon  it, 
yet  he  died  in  the  unalterable  persuasion  that  the  land 
was  his,  and  that  it  would  one  day  be  filled  with  his 
descendants.  It  was  the  triumph  of  his  faith  that  he 
believed  in  the  performance  of  the  promise  as  he  had 
originally  understood  it ;  that  he  believed  in  the  gift 
of  the  actual  visible  land.  But  it  is  difficult  to  believe 
that  he  did  not  come  to  the  persuasion  that  God's 
friendship  was  more  than  any  single  thing  He  promised ; 


Gen.  xxiii.]  PURCHASE   OF  MACHPELAH.  235 

difficult  to  suppose  he  did  not  feel  something  of  what 
our  Lord  expressed  in  the  words  that  God  is  the  God 
of  the  living,  not  of  the  dead  ;  that  those  who  are  His 
enter  by  death  into  some  deeper  and  richer  experience 
of  His  love. 

Such  is  the  interpretation  put  upon  Abraham's  atti- 
tude of  mind  by  the  writer,  who,  of  all  others  saw  most 
deeply  into  the  moving  principles  of  the  Old  Testament 
dispensation  and  the  connection  between  old  things 
and  new — I  mean  the  writer  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews.  He  says  that  persons  who  act  as  Abraham 
did  declare  plainly  that  they  seek  a  country ;  and  if 
on  finding  they  did  not  get  the  country  in  which  they 
sojourned  they  thought  the  promise  had  failed,  they 
might,  he  says,  have  found  opportunity  to  return  to 
the  country  whence  they  came  at  first.  And  why  did 
they  not  do  so  ?  Because  they  sought  a  better,  that 
is,  an  heavenly  country.  Wherefore  God  is  not 
ashamed  to  be  called  their  God,  for  He  hath  prepared 
for  them  a  city ;  as  if  He  said,  God  would  have  been 
ashamed  of  Abraham  if  he  had  been  content  with  less, 
and  had  not  aspired  to  something  more  than  he  re- 
ceived in  the  land  of  Canaan. 

Now  how  else  could  Abraham's  mind  have  been  so 
effectually  lifted  to  this  exalted  hope  as  by  the  disap- 
pointment of  his  original  and  much  tamer  hope  ?  Had 
he  gained  possession  of  the  land  in  the  ordinary  way 
of  purchase  or  conquest,  and  had  he  been  able  to  make 
full  use  of  it  for  the  purposes  of  life  ;  had  he  acquired 
meadows  where  his  cattle  might  graze,  towns  where 
his  followers  might  establish  themselves,  would  he  not 
almost  certainly  have  fallen  into  the  belief  that  in  these 
pastures  and  by  his  worldly  wealth  and  quiet  and 
prosperity  he  was   already  exhausting  God's  promise 


236  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

regarding  the  land  ?  But  buying  the  land  for  his  dead 
he  is  forced  to  enter  upon  it  from  the  right  side,  with 
the  idea  that  not  by  present  enjoyment  of  its  fertihty 
is  God's  promise  to  him  exhausted.  Both  in  the  getting 
of  his  heir  and  in  the  acquisition  of  his  land  his  mind 
is  led  to  contemplate  things  beyond  the  range  of  earthly 
vision  and  earthly  success.  He  is  led  to  the  thought 
that  God  having  become  his  God,  this  means  blessing 
eternal  as  God  Himself.  In  short  Abraham  came  to 
believe  in  a  life  beyond  the  grave  on  very  much  the 
same  grounds  as  many  people  still  rely  on.  They  feel 
that  this  life  has  an  unaccountable  poverty  and  meagre- 
ness  in  it.  They  feel  that  they  themselves  are  much 
larger  than  the  life  here  allotted  to  them.  They  are  out 
of  proportion.  It  may  be  said  that  this  is  their  own 
fault ;  they  should  make  life  a  larger,  richer  thing. 
But  that  is  only  apparently  true ;  the  very  brevity  of 
life,  which  no  skill  of  theirs  can  alter,  is  itself  a  limit- 
ing and  disappointing  condition.  Moreover,  it  seems 
unworthy  of  God  as  well  as  of  man.  As  soon  as  a 
worthy  conception  of  God  possesses  the  soul,  the  idea 
of  immortality  forthwith  follows  it.  We  instinctively 
feel  that  God  can  do  far  more  for  us  than  is  done  in 
this  life.  Our  knowledge  of  Him  here  is  most  rudi- 
mentary; our  connection  with  Him  obscure  and  per- 
plexed, and  wanting  in  fulness  of  result ;  we  seem 
scarcely  to  know  whose  we  are,  and  scarcely  to  be 
reconciled  to  the  essential  conditions  of  life,  or  even  to 
God  ; — we  are,  in  short,  in  a  very  different  kind  of  life 
from  that  which  we  can  conceive  and  desire.  Besides, 
a  serious  belief  in  God,  in  a  personal  Spirit,  removes 
at  a  touch  all  difficulties  arising  from  materialism.  If 
God  lives  and  yet  has  no  senses  or  bodily  appearance, 
we  also  may  so  liv'e  ;    and  if  His  is   the  higher  state 


Gen.xxili.]  PURCHASE   CF  MACHPELAH.  zyj 

and  the  more  enjoyable  state,  we  need  not  dread  to 
experience  life  as  disembodied  spirits. 

It  is  certainly  a  most  acceptable  lesson  that  is  read 
to  us  here — viz.,  that  God's  promises  do  not  shrivel,  but 
grow  solid  and  expand  as  we  grasp  them.  Abraham 
went  out  to  enter  on  possession  of  a  few  fields  a  little 
richer  than  his  own,  and  he  found  an  eternal  inheritance. 
Naturally  we  think  quite  the  opposite  of  God's  promises  ; 
we  fancy  they  are  grandiloquent  and  magnify  things, 
and  that  the  actual  fulfilment  will  prove  unworthy  of 
the  language  describing  it.  But  as  the  woman  who 
came  to  touch  the  hem  of  Christ's  garment  with  some 
dubious  hope  that  thus  her  body  might  be  healed,  found 
herself  thereby  linked  to  Christ  for  evermore,  so  always, 
if  we  meet  God  at  any  one  point  and  honestly  trust 
Him  for  even  the  smallest  gift,  He  makes  that  the 
means  of  introducing  Himself  to  us  and  getting  us  to 
understand  the  value  of  His  better  gifts.  And  indeed, 
if  this  life  were  all,  might  not  God  well  be  ashamed 
to  call  Himself  our  Gcd  ?  When  He  calls  Himself  our 
God  He  bids  us  expect  to  find  in  Him  inexhaustible 
resources  to  protect  and  satisfy  and  enrich  us.  He 
bids  us  cherish  boldly  all  innocent  and  natural  desires, 
believing  that  we  have  in  Him  one  who  can  gratify 
every  such  desire.  But  if  this  life  be  all,  who  can  say 
existence  has  been  perfectly  satisfactory— if  there  be 
no  reversal  of  what  has  here  gone  wrong,  no  restora- 
tion of  what  has  here  been  lost,  if  there  be  no  life  in 
which  conscience  and  ideas  and  hopes  find  their  fulfil- 
ment and  satisfaction,  who  can  say  he  is  content  and 
could  ask  no  more  of  God  ?  Who  can  say  he  does 
not  see  what  more  God  could  do  for  him  than  has  here 
been  done  ?  Doubtless  there  are  many  happy  lives, 
doubtless    there    are    lives    which    carry   in    them    a 


238  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

worthiness  and  a  sacredness  which  manifest  God's 
presence,  but  even  such  Hves  only  more  powerfully 
suggest  a  state  in  which  all  lives  shall  be  holy  and 
happy,  and  in  which,  freed  from  inward  uneasiness 
and  shame  and  sorrow,  we  shall  live  unimpeded  the 
highest  life,  life  as  we  feel  it  ought  to  be.  The  very 
joys  men  have  here  experienced  suggest  to  them  the 
desirableness  of  continued  life ;  the  love  they  have 
known  can  only  intensify  their  yearning  for  this  per- 
petual enjoyment;  their  whole  experience  of  this  life 
has  served  to  reveal  to  them  the  endless  possibilities 
of  growth  and  of  activity  that  are  bound  up  in  human 
nature ;  and  if  death  is  to  end  all  this,  what  more  has 
life  been  to  any  of  us  than  a  seed-time  without  a 
harvest,  an  education  without  any  sphere  of  employ- 
ment, a  vision  of  good  that  can  never  be  ours,  a 
striving  after  the  unattainable  ?  If  this  is  all  that 
God  can  give  us  we  must  indeed  be  disappointed  in 
Him. 

But  He  is  disappointed  in  us  if  we  do  not  aspire  to 
more  than  this.  In  this  sense  also  He  is  ashamed  to 
be  called  our  God.  He  is  ashamed  to  be  known  as 
the  God  of  men  who  never  aspire  to  higher  blessings 
than  earthly  comfort  and  present  prosperity.  He  is 
ashamed  to  be  known  as  connected  with  those  who 
think  so  lightly  of  His  power  that  they  look  for  nothing 
beyond  what  every  man  calculates  on  getting  in  this 
world.  God  means  all  present  blessings  and  all  bless- 
ings of  a  lower  kind  to  lure  us  on  to  trust  Him  and 
seek  more  and  more  from  Him.  In  these  early  pro- 
mises of  His  He  says  nothing  expressly  and  distinctly 
of  things  eternal.  He  appeals  to  the  immediate  wants 
and  present  longings  of  men — just  as  our  Lord  while  on 
earth  drew  men  to  Himself  by  healing  their  diseases. 


Gen.  xxiii.]  PURCHASE   OF  MACHPELAH.  239 

Take,  then,  any  one  promise  of  God,  and,  however  small 
it  seems  at  first,  it  will  grow  in  your  hand ;  you  will 
find  always  that  you  get  more  than  you  bargained  for, 
that  you  cannot  take  even  a  little  without  going  further 
and  receiving  all. 


XIX. 

ISAACS  MARRIAGE. 

Genesis   xxiv. 

"  Favour  is  deceitful,  and  beauty  is  vain  :  but  a  woman  that  feareth 
the  Lord,  she  shall  be  praised." — Prov.  xxxi.  30. 

"XXT'HEN  a  son  has  attained  the  age  of  twenty 
V  V  years,  his  father,  if  able,  should  marry  him, 
and  then  take  his  hand  and  say,  I  have  disciplined  thee, 
and  taught  thee,  and  married  thee ;  I  now  seek  refuge 
with  God  from  thy  mischief  in  the  present  world  and 
the  next."  This  Mohammedaix  tradition  expresses  with 
tolerable  accuracy  the  idea  of  the  Eastern  world,  that- 
a  father  has  not  discharged  his  responsibilities  towards 
his  son  until  he  finds  a  wife  for  him.  Abraham  no 
doubt  fully  recognised  his  duty  in  this  respect,  but  he 
had  allowed  Isaac  to  pass  the  usual  age.  He  was 
thirty-seven  at  his  mother's  death,  forty  when  the 
events  of  this  chapter  occurred.  This  delay  was  occa- 
sioned by  two  causes.  The  bond  between  Isaac  and 
his  mother  was  an  unusually  strong  one;  and  alongside 
of  that  imperious  woman  a  young  wife  would  have 
found  it  even  more  difficult  than  usual  to  take  a  be- 
coming place.  Besides,  where  was  a  wife  to  be  found  ? 
No  doubt  some  of  Abraham's  Hittite  friends  would 
have  considered  any  daughter  of  theirs  exceptionally 
fortunate  who  should  secure  so  good  an  alliance.     The 


Gen.  x\iv.]  ISAACS  MARRIAGE,  241 

heir  of  Abraham  was  no  inconsiderable  person  even 
when  measured  by  Hittite  expectations.  And  it  may 
have  taxed  Abraham's  sagacity  to  find  excuses  for  not 
forming  an  alUance  which  seemed  so  natural,  and 
which  would  have  secured  to  him  and  his  heirs  a  settled 
place  in  the  country.  This  was  so  obvious,  common, 
easily  accomplished  a  means  of  gaining  a  footing  for 
Isaac  among  somewhat  dangerous  neighbours,  that  it 
stands  to  reason  Abraham  must  often  have  weighed  its 
advantages. 

But  as  often  as  he  weighed  the  advantages  of  this 
solution  of  his  difficulty,  so  often  did  he  reject  them. 
He  was  resolved  that  the  race  should  be  of  pure  Hebrew 
blood.  His  own  experience  in  connection  with  Hagar 
had  given  this  idea  a  settled  prominence  in  his  mind. 
And,  accordingly,  in  his  instructions  to  the  servant 
whom  he  sent  to  find  a  M'ife  for  Isaac,  two  things  were 
insisted  on — 1st,  that  she  should  not  be  a  Canaanite  ; 
and,  2nd,  that  on  no  pretext  should  Isaac  be  allowed  to 
leave  the  land  of  promise  and  visit  Mesopotamia.  The 
steward,  knowing  something  of  men  and  women,  fore- 
saw that  it  was  most  unlikely  that  a  young  woman 
would  forsake  her  own  land  and  preconceived  hopes 
and  go  away  with  a  stranger  to  a  foreign  country. 
Abraham  believes  she  will  be  persuaded.  But  in  any 
case,  he  says,  one  thing  must  be  seen  to ;  Isaac  must 
on  no  account  be  induced  to  leave  the  promised  land 
even  to  visit  Mesopotamia.  God  will  furnish  Isaac  with 
a  wife  without  putting  him  into  circumstances  of  great 
temptation,  without  requiring  him  to  go  into  societies 
in  the  slightest  degree  injurious  to  his  faith.  In  fact, 
Abraham  refused  to  do  what  countless  Christian  mothers 
of  marriageable  sons  and  daughters  do  without  com- 
punction.    He  had  an  insiglit  into  the  real  influences 

16 


242  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

that  form  action  and  determine  careers  which  many  of 
us  sadly  lack. 

And  his  faith  was  rewarded.  The  tidings  from  his 
brother's  family  arrived  in  the  nick  of  time.  Light, 
he  found,  was  sown  for  the  upright.  It  happened  with 
him  as  it  has  doubtless  often  happened  with  ourselves, 
that  though  we  have  been  looking  forv/ard  to  a  certain 
time  with  much  anxiety,  unable  even  to  form  a  plan  of 
action,  yet  when  the  time  actually  came,  things  seemed 
to  arrange  themselves,  and  the  thing  to  do  became  quite 
obvious.  Abraham  was  persuaded  God  would  send 
His  angel  to  bring  the  affair  to  a  happy  issue.  And 
when  we  seem  drifting  towards  some  great  upturning 
of  our  life,  or  when  things  seem  to  come  all  of  a  sudden 
and  in  crov.'ds  upon  us,  so  that  we  cannot  judge  what 
we  should  do,  it  is  an  animating  thought  that  another 
eye  than  ours  is  penetrating  the  darkness,  finding  for 
us  a  way  through  all  entanglement  and  making  crooked 
things  straight  for  us. 

But  the  patience  of  Isaac  was  quite  as  remarkable  as 
the  faith  of  Abraham.  He  was  now  forty  years  old, 
and  if,  as  he  had  been  told,  the  great  aim  of  his  life,  the 
great  service  he  was  to  render  to  the  world,  was  bound 
up  with  the  rearing  of  a  family,  he  might  with  some 
reason  be  wondering  why  circumstances  were  so  adverse 
to  the  fulfilment  of  this  vocation.  Must  he  not  have 
])een  tempted,  as  his  father  had  been,  to  take  matters 
into  his  own  hand  ?  Fathers  are  perhaps  too  scrupu- 
lous about  telling  their  sons  instructive  passages  from 
their  own  experience;  but  when  Abraham  saw  Isaac 
exercised  and  discomposed  about  this  matter,  he  can 
scarcely  have  failed  to  strengthen  his  spirit  by  telling 
him  something  of  his  own  mistakes  in  life.  Abraham 
must  have  seen  that  everything  depended   on   Isaac's 


Gen.  xxiv.]  ISAACS  MARRIAGE.  243 

conduct,  and  that  he  had  a  very  difficult  part  to  play. 
He  himself  had  been  supernaturally  encouraged  to  leave 
his  own  land  and  sojourn  in  Canaan ;  on  the  other 
hand,  by  the  time  Jacob  grew  up,  the  idea  of  the 
promised  land  had  become  traditional  and  fixed ;  though 
even  Jacob,  had  he  found  Laban  a  better  master,  might 
have  permanently  renounced  his  expectations  in  Canaan. 
But  Isaac  enjoyed  the  advantages  neither  of  the  first 
nor  of  the  third  generation.  The  coming  into  Canaan 
was  not  his  doing,  and  he  saw  how  little  of  the  land 
Abraham  had  gained.  He  was  under  strong  temptation 
to  disbelieve.  And  when  he  measured  his  condition 
with  that  of  other  young  men,  he  certainly  required 
unusual  self-control.  And  to  every  one  who  would 
urge,  Youth  is  passing,  and  I  am  not  getting  what  I 
expected  at  God's  hand ;  I  have  not  received  that 
providential  leading  I  was  led  to  expect,  nor  do  I  find 
that  my  life  is  made  simpler ;  it  is  very  well  to  tell  me 
to  wait,  but  life  is  slipping  away,  and  we  may  wait  too 
long — to  every  one  whose  heart  urges  such  murmurs, 
Abraham  through  Isaac  would  say  :  But  if  you  wait  for 
God  you  get  something,  some  positive  good,  and  not 
some  mere  appearance  of  good ;  you  at  last  do  get 
begun,  you  get  into  life  at  the  right  door ;  whereas  if 
you  follow  some  other  way  than  that  which  you  believe 
God  wishes  to  lead  you  in,  you  get  nothing. 

Isaac's  continence  had  its  reward.  In  the  suitable- 
ness of  Rebekah  to  a  man  of  his  nature,  we  see  the 
suitableness  of  all  such  gifts  of  God  as  are  really 
waited  for  at  His  hand.  God  may  keep  us  longer 
waiting  than  the  world  does,  but  He  gives  us  never 
the  wrong  thing.  Isaac  had  no  idea  of  Rebekah's 
character ;  he  could  only  yield  himself  to  God's  know- 
ledge of  what  he  needed  ;  and  so  there  came  to  him, 


244  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

from  a  country  he  had  never  seen,  a  help-meet  singu- 
larly adapted  to  his  own  character.  One  cannot  read 
of  her  lively,  bustling,  almost  forward,  but  obliging 
and  generous  conduct  at  the  well,  nor  of  her  prompt, 
impulsiv^e  departure  to  an  unknown  land,  without 
seeing,  as  no  doubt  Eliezer  very  quickly  saw,  that 
this  was  exactly  the  woman  for  Isaac,  In  this  eager, 
ardent,  active,  enterprising  spirit,  his  own  retiring 
and  contemplative,  if  not  sombre  disposition  found  its 
appropriate  relief  and  stimulus.  Hers  was  a  spirit 
which  might  indeed,  with  so  mild  a  lord,  take  more 
of  the  management  of  affairs  than  was  befitting  ;  and 
when  the  wear  and  tear  of  life  had  tamed  down  the 
girlish  vivacity  with  which  she  spoke  to  Eliezer  at  the 
well,  and  leapt  from  the  camel  to  meet  her  lord,  her 
active-mindedness  does  appear  in  the  disagreeable 
shape  of  the  clever  scheming  of  the  mother  of  a  family. 
In  her  sons  ^-ou  see  her  qualities  exaggerated  :  from 
her,  Esau  derived  his  activity  and  open-handedness  ; 
and  in  Jacob,  you  find  that  her  self-reliant  and  un- 
scrupulous management  has  become  a  self-asserting 
craft  which  leads  him  into  much  trouble,  if  it  also 
sometimes  gets  him  out  of  difficulties.  But  such  as 
Rebekah  was,  she  was  quite  the  woman  to  attract 
Isaac  and  supplement  his  character. 

So  in  other  cases  where  you  find  you  must  leave 
yourself  very  much  in  God's  hand,  what  He  sends  you 
will  be  found  more  precisely  adapted  to  your  character 
than  if  you  chose  it  for  yourself  You  find  your 
whole  nature  has  been  considered, — 3'our  aims,  your 
hopes,  your  wants,  your  position,  whatever  in  you 
waits  for  something  unattained.  And  as  in  giving  to 
Isaac  the  intended  mother  of  the  promised  seed,  God 
gave  him  a  woman  who  fitted  in  to  ail  the  peculiarities 


Gon.  xxiv.]  ISAACS  MARRIAGE.  245 

of  his  nature,  and  was  a  comfort  and  a  joy  to  him  in 
his  own  life ;  so  we  shall  always  find  that  God,  in 
satisfying  His  own  requirements,  satisfies  at  the  same 
time  our  wants— that  God  carries  forward  His  work 
in  the  world  by  the  satisfaction  of  the  best  and  happiest 
feelings  of  our  nature,  so  that  it  is  not  only  the  result 
tliat  is  blessedness,  but  blessing  is  created  along  its 
whole  course. 

Abraham's  servant,  though  not  very  sanguine  of 
success,  does  all  in  his  power  to  earn  it.  He  sets 
out  with  an  equipment  fitted  to  inspire  respect  and 
confidence.  But  as  he  draws  nearer  and  nearer  to 
the  city  of  Nahor,  revolving  the  delicate  nature  of  his 
errand,  and  feeling  that  definite  action  must  now  be 
taken,  he  sees  so  much  room  for  making  an  irreparable 
mistake  that  he  resolves  to  share  his  responsibility 
with  the  God  of  his  master.  And  the  manner  in  which 
he  avails  himself  of  God's  guidance  is  remarkable.  He 
does  not  ask  God  to  guide  him  to  the  house  of  Bethuel ; 
indeed,  there  was  no  occasion  to  do  so,  for  any  child 
could  have  pointed  out  the  house  to  him.  But  he  was 
a  cautious  person,  and  he  wished  to  make  his  own 
observations  on  the  appearance  and  conduct  of  the 
younger  women  of  the  household,  before  in  any  way 
committing  himself  to  them.  He  was  free  to  make 
these  observations  at  the  well ;  while  he  felt  it  must 
be  very  awkward  to  enter  Laban's  house  with  the 
possibility  of  leaving  it  dissatisfied.  At  the  same  time, 
he  felt  it  was  for  God  rather  than  for  him  to  choose 
a  wife  for  Isaac.  So  he  made  an  arrangement  by 
which  the  interposition  of  God  was  provided  for.  He 
meant  to  make  his  own  selection,  guided  necessarily 
b}^  the  comparative  attractiveness  of  the  women  who 
came  for  water,  possibly  also  by  some  family  likeness 


246  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

to  Sarah  or  Isaac  he  might  expect  to  see  in  any  women 
of  Bethuel's  house  ;  but  knowing  the  deceitfuhiess  of 
appearances,  he  asked  God  to  confirm  and  determine 
his  own  choice  by  moving  the  girl  he  should  address 
to  give  him  a  certain  answer.  Having  arranged  this, 
"  Behold  !  Rebekah  came  out  with  her  pitcher  upon 
her  shoulder,  and  the  damsel  was  very  fair  to  look 
upon."  In  the  Bible  the  beauty  of  women  is  frankly 
spoken  of  without  prudery  or  mawkishness  as  an 
influence  in  human  affairs.  The  beauty  of  Rebekah 
at  once  disposed  Eliezer  to  address  her,  and  his  first 
impression  in  her  favour  was  confirmed  by  the  obliging, 
cheerful  alacrity  with  which  she  did  very  much  more 
than  she  was  asked,  and,  indeed,  took  upon  herself, 
through  her  kindness  of  disposition,  a  task  of  some 
trouble  and  fatigue. 

It  is  important  to  observe  then  in  what  sense  and 
to  what  extent  this  capable  servant  asked  a  sign.  He 
did  not  ask  for  a  bare,  intrinsically  insignificant  sign. 
He  might  have  done  so.  He  might  have  proposed  as 
a  test,  Let  her  who  stumbles  on  the  first  step  of  the 
well  be  the  designed  wife  of  Isaac;  or.  Let  her  who 
comes  with  a  certain-coloured  flower  in  her  hand — or 
so  forth.  But  the  sign  he  chose  was  significant, 
because  dependent  on  the  character  of  the  girl  herself ; 
a  sign  which  must  reveal  her  good-heartedness  and 
readiness  to  oblige  and  courteous  activity  in  the  enter- 
tainment of  strangers — in  fact,  the  outstanding  Eastern 
virtue.  So  that  he  really  acted  very  much  as  Isaac 
himself  must  have  done.  He  would  make  no  approach 
to  any  one  whose  appearance  repelled  him ;  and  when 
satisfied  in  this  particular,  he  would  test  her  disposition. 
And  of  course  it  was  these  qualities  of  Rebekah  which 
afterwards  caused  Isaac  to  feel  that  this  was  the  wife 


'Gen.  xxiv.]  ISAAC'S  MARRIAGE.  247 

God  had  designed  for  him.  It  was  not  by  any  arbitrary 
sign  that  he  or  any  man  could  come  to  know  who  was 
the  suitable  wife  for  him,  but  only  by  the  love  she 
aroused  within  him.  God  has  given  tliis  feeling  to 
direct  choice  in  marriage  ;  and  where  this  is  wanting, 
nothing  else  whatever,  no  matter  how  astoundingly 
providential  it  seems,  ought  to  persuade  a  man  that 
such  and  such  a  person  is  desit:ned  to  be  his  wife. 

There  are  turning  points  in  life  at  once  so  momentous 
in  their  consequence,  and  affording  so  little  material  for 
choice,  that  one  is  much  tempted  to  ask  for  more  than 
providential  leading.  Not  only  among  savages  and 
heathen  have  omens  been  sought.  Among  Christians 
there  has  been  manifest  a  constant  disposition  to  appeal 
to  the  lot,  or  to  accept  some  arbitrary  way  of  deter- 
mining which  course  we  should  follow.  In  very  many 
predicaments  we  should  be  greatly  relieved  were  there 
some  one  who  could  at  once  deliver  us  from  all  hesi- 
tation and  mental  conflict  by  one  authoritative  word. 
There  are,  perhaps,  few  things  more  frequently  and 
determinedly  wished  for,  nor  regarding  which  we  are 
so  much  tempted  to  feel  that  such  a  thing  should  be, 
as  some  infallible  guide  before  whom  we  could  lay 
every  difficulty ;  who  would  tell  us  at  once  what  ought 
to  be  done  in  each  case,  and  whether  we  ought  to  con- 
tinue as  Vv^e  are  or  make  some  change.  But  only  con- 
sider for  a  moment  what  would  be  the  consequence  of 
having  such  a  guide.  At  every  important  step  of  your 
progress  you  would,  of  course,  instantly  turn  to  him  ; 
as  soon  as  doubt  entered  your  mind  regarding  the 
moral  quality  of  an  action,  or  the  propriety  of  a  course 
you  think  of  adopting,  you  would  be  at  3^our  counsellor. 
And  what  would  be  the  consequence?  The  consequence 
would  be,  that  instead    of   the  various  circumstances, 


2-1 8  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

experiences,  and  temptations  of  this  life  being  a  train- 
ing to  you,  your  conscience  would  every  day  become 
less  able  to  guide  you,  and  your  will  less  able  to  decide, 
until,  instead  of  being  a  mature  son  of  God,  who  has 
learned  to  conform  his  conscience  and  will  to  the  will 
of  God,  you  would  be  quite  imbecile  as  a  moral  creature. 
What  God  desires  by  our  training  here  is,  that  we 
become  like  to  Him ;  that  there  be  nurtured  in  us  a 
power  to  discern  between  good  and  evil ;  that  by  giving 
our  own  voluntary  consent  to  His  appointments,  and 
that  by  discovering  in  various  and  perplexing  circum- 
stances what  is  the  right  thing  to  do,  we  may  have  our 
own  moral  natures  as  enlightened,  strengthened,  and 
fully  developed  every  way  as  possible.  The  object  of 
God  in  declaring  His  will  to  us  is  not  to  point  out 
particular  steps,  but  to  bring  our  wills  into  conformity 
with  His,  so  that  whether  we  err  in  any  particular  step 
or  no,  we  shall  still  be  near  to  Him  in  intention.  He 
does  with  us  as  we  with  children.  We  do  not  always 
at  once  relieve  them  from  their  little  difficulties,  but 
watch  with  interest  the  working  of  their  own  conscience 
regarding  the  matter,  and  will  give  them  no  sign  till 
they  themselves  have  decided. 

Evidently,  therefore,  before  we  may  dare  to  ask  a 
sign  from  God,  the  case  must  be  a  very  special  one. 
\i  you  are  at  present  engaged  in  something  that  is  to 
your  own  conscience  doubtful,  and  if  you  are  not  hiding 
this  from  God,  but  would  very  willingly,  so  far  as  you 
know  your  own  mind,  do  in  the  matter  what  He  pleases 
• — if  no  further  light  is  coming  to  3^ou,  and  you  feel  a 
growing  inclination  to  put  it  to  God  in  this  way : 
"  Grant,  O  Lord,  that  something  may  happen  by  which 
I  may  know  Thy  mind  in  this  matter" — this  is  asking 
from  God   a  kind   of  help  which  He  is  very  ready  to 


Gen.  xxiv.]  ISAACS  MARRIAGE.  249 

give,  often  leading  men  to  clearer  views  of  duty  by 
events  which  happen  within  their  knowledge,  and  which 
having  no  special  significance  to  persons  whose  minds 
are  differently  occupied,  are  yet  most  instructive  to 
those  who  are  waiting  for  light  on  some  particular 
point.  The  danger  is  not  here,  but  in  fixing  God  down 
to  the  special  thing  which  shall  happen  as  a  sign 
between  Him  and  you ;  which,  when  it  happens,  gives 
no  fresh  light  on  the  subject,  leaves  your  mind  still 
morally  undecided,  but  only  binds  you,  by  an  arbitrary 
bargain  of  your  own,  to  follow  one  course  rather  than 
another.  This  matter  that  you  would  so  summarily 
dispose  of  may  be  the  very  thread  of  your  life  which 
God  means  to  test  you  by ;  this  state  of  indecision 
which  you  would  evade,  God  may  mean  to  continue 
until  your  moral  character  grows  strong  enough  to  rise 
above  it  to  the  right  decision. 

No  one  will  suppose  that  Rebekah's  readiness  to 
leave  her  home  was  due  to  mere  light-mindedness.  Her 
motives  were  no  doubt  mixed.  The  worldly  position 
offered  to  her  was  good,  and  there  was  an  attractive 
spice  of  romance  about  the  whole  affair  which  would 
have  its  charm.  She  may  also  be  credited  with  some 
apprehension  of  the  great  future  of  Isaac's  family.  In 
after  life  she  certainly  showed  a  very  keen  sense  of  the 
value  of  the  blessings  peculiar  to  that  household.  And, 
probably  above  all,  she  had  an  irresistible  feeling  that 
this  was  her  destiny.  She  saw  the  -hand  of  God  in  her 
selection,  and  with  a  more  or  less  conscious  faith  in 
God  she  passed  to  her  new  life. 

Her  first  meeting  with  her  future  husband  is  not  the 
least  picturesque  passage  in  this  most  picturesque  nar- 
rative. Isaac  had  gone  out  on  that  side  of  the  encamp- 
ment by  which    he    knew  his    father's  messenger  was 


250  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

most  likely  to  approach.  He  had  gone  out  "to  meditate 
at  even-tide ; "  his  meditation  being  necessarily  directed 
and  intensified  by  his  attitude  of  critical  expectancy. 

The  evening  light,  in  our  country  hanging  dubiously 
between  the  glare  of  noon  and  the  darkness  of  midnight, 
invites  to  that  condition  of  mind  which  lies  between  the 
intense  alertness  of  day  and  the  deep  oblivion  of  sleep, 
and  which  seems  the  most  favourable  for  the  meditation 
of  divine  things.  The  dusk  of  evening  seems  inter- 
posed between  day  and  night  to  invite  us  to  that 
reflection  which  should  intervene  betwixt  our  labour 
and  our  rest  from  labour,  that  we  may  leave  our  work 
behind  us  satisfied  that  we  have  done  what  we  could, 
or,  seeing  its  faultiness,  may  still  lay  us  down  to  sleep 
with  God's  forgiveness.  It  is  when  the  bright  sunlight 
has  gone,  and  no  more  reproaches  our  inactivity,  that 
friends  can  enjoy  prolonged  intercourse,  and  can  best 
unbosom  to  one  another,  as  if  the  darkness  gave  oppor- 
tunity for  a  tenderness  which  would  be  ashamed  to 
show  itself  during  the  twelve  hours  in  which  a  man 
shall  work.  And  all  that  makes  this  hour  so  beloved 
by  the  family  circle,  and  so  conducive  to  friendly  inter- 
course, makes  it  suitable  also  for  such  intercourse  with 
God  as  each  human  soul  can  attempt.  Most  of  us 
suppose  we  have  some  little  plot  of  time  railed  off  for 
God  morning  and  evening,  but  how  often  does  it  get 
trodden  down  by  the  profane  multitude  of  this  world's 
cares,  and  quite  occupied  by  encroaching  secular 
engagements.  But  evening  is  the  time  when  many 
men  are,  and  when  all  men  ought  to  be  least  hurried ; 
when  the  mind  is  placid,  but  not  yet  prostrate ;  when 
the  body  requires  rest  from  its  ordinary  labour,  but  is 
not  yet  so  oppressed  with  fatigue  as  to  make  devotion 
a  mockery  ;    when    the    din   of   this  world's    business 


Gen.  xxiv.]  ISAACS  MARRIAGE.  251 

is  silenced,  and  as  a  sleeper  wakes  to  consciousness 
when  some  accustomed  noise  is  checked,  so  the  soul 
now  wakes  up  to  the  thought  of  itself  and  of  God.  I 
know  not  whether  those  of  us  who  have  the  opportunity 
have  also  the  resolution  to  sequester  ourselves  evening 
by  evening,  as  Isaac  did  ;  but  this  I  do  know,  that  he 
who  does  so  will  not  fail  of  his  reward,  but  will  very 
speedily  find  that  his  Father  who  seeth  in  secret  is 
manifestly  rewarding  him.  V/hat  we  all  need  above 
all  things  is  to  let  the  mind  dioell  on  divine  things — to 
be  able  to  sit  down  knowing  we  have  so  much  clear 
time  in  which  we  shall  not  be  disturbed,  and  during 
which  we  shall  think  directly  under  God's  eye — to  get 
quite  rid  of  the  feeling  of  getting  through  with  some- 
thing, so  that  without  distraction  the  soul  may  take 
a  deliberate  survey  of  its  own  matters.  And  so  shall 
often  God's  .gifts  appear  on  our  horizon  when  we  lift 
up  cur  eyes,  as  Isaac  "  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  saw  the 
camels  coming  "  with  his  bride. 

Twihght,  "  nature's  vesper-bell,"  or  the  light  shaded 
at  evening  by  the  hills  of  Palestine,  seems,  then,  to 
have  called  Isaac  to  a  familiar  occupation.  This  long- 
continued  mourning  for  his  mother,  and  his  lonely 
meditation  in  the  fields,  are  both  in  harmony  with  what 
we  know  of  his  character,  and  of  his  experience  on 
Mount  Moriah.  Retiring  and  contemplative,  willing  to 
conciliate  by  concession  rather  than  to  assert  and 
maintain  his  rights  against  opposition,  glad  to  yield  his 
own  affairs  to  the  strong  guidance  of  some  other  hand, 
tender  and  deep  in  his  affections,  to  him  this  lonely 
meditation  seems  singularly  appropriate.  His  dwelling, 
too,  was  remote,  on  the  edge  cf  the  wilderness,  by  the 
well  which  Hagar  had  named  Lahai-roi.  Here  he 
dviclt  as  one  ccnsecrated  to  God,  feeling  little  desire  to 


252  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

enter  deeper  into  the  world,  and  preferring  the  place 
where  the  presence  of  God  was  least  disturbed  by  the 
society  of  men.  But  at  this  time  he  had  come  from  the 
south,  and  was  awaiting  at  his  father's  encampment 
the  result  of  Eliezer's  mission.  And  one  can  conceive 
the  thrill  of  keen  expectancy  that  shot  through  him  as 
he  saw  the  female  figure  alighting  from  the  camel,  the 
first  eager  exchange  of  greetings,  and  the  gladness  with 
which  he  brought  Rebekah  into  his  mother  Sarah's 
tent  and  was  comforted  after  his  mother's  death.  The 
readiness  with  which  he  loved  her  seems  to  be  referred 
in  the  narrative  to  the  grief  he  still  felt  for  his  mother ; 
for  as  a  candle  is  never  so  easily  lit  as  just  after  it  has 
been  put  out,  so  the  affection  of  Isaac,  still  emitting  the 
sad  memorial  of  a  past  love,  more  quickly  caught  at  the 
new  object  presented.  And  thus  was  consummated  a 
marriage  which  shows  us  how  thoroughly  interwrought 
are  the  plans  of  God  and  the  life  of  man,  each  fulfilling 
the  other. 

For  as  the  salvation  God  introduces  into  the  world 
is  a  practical,  every-day  salvation  to  deliver  us  from 
the  sins  which  this  life  tempts  us  to,  so  God  intro- 
duced this  salvation  by  means  of  the  natural  affections 
and  ordinary  arrangements  of  human  life.  God  would 
have  us  recognise  in  our  lives  what  He  shows  us  in 
this  chapter,  that  He  has  made  provision  for  our  wants, 
and  that  if  we  wait  upon  Him  He  will  bring  us  into  the 
enjoyment  of  all  we  really  need.  So  that  if  we  are  to 
make  any  advance  in  appropriating  to  ourselves  God's 
salvation,  it  can  only  be  by  submitting  ourselves 
implicitly  to  His  providence,  and  taking  care  that  in 
the  commonest  and  most  secular  actions  of  our  lives 
v/e  are  having  respect  to  His  will  with  us,  and  that  in 
tl:ose  actions    in  v.'hich  our  own  feelings   and  desires 


Gen.  xxiv.]  ISAACS  MARRIAGE.  253 

seem  sufficient  to  guide  us,  we  are  having  regard  to 
His  controlling  wisdom  and  goodness.  We  are  to  find 
room  for  God  everywhere  in  our  Hves,  not  feeling 
embarrassed  by  the  thought  of  His  claims  even  in 
our  least  constrained  hours,  but  subordinating  to  His 
highest  and  holiest  ends  everything  that  our  life  con- 
tains, and  acknowledging  as  His  gift  what  may  seem 
to  be  our  own  most  proper  conquest  or  earning. 


XX. 

ESAU  AND  JACOB. 

Genesis  xxv. 

"He  goeth  as  an  ox  goeth  to  the  slaughter,  till  a  dart  strike  through 
his  liver  ;  as  a  bird  hasteth  to  the  snare,  and  knoweth  not  that  it  is  for 
his  life." — Prov.  vii.  22,  23. 

THE  character  and  career  of  Isaac  would  seem  to 
tell  us  that  it  is  possible  to  have  too  great  a 
father.  Isaac  was  dwarfed  and  weakened  by  growing 
up  under  the  shadow  of  Abraham.  Of  his  life  there 
was  little  to  record,  and  what  was  recorded  was  very- 
much  a  reproduction  of  some  of  the  least  glorious  pas- 
sages of  his  father's  career.  The  digging  of  wells  for 
his  flocks  was  among  the  most  notable  events  in  his 
commonplace  life,  and  even  in  this  he  only  re-opened 
the  wells  his  father  had  dug. 

In  him  we  see  the  result  of  growing  up  under  too 
strong  and  dominant  an  external  influence.  The  free 
and  healthy  play  of  his  own  capacities  and  will  was 
curbed.  The  sons  of  outstanding  fathers  are  much 
tempted  to  follow  in  the  wake  of  tlicir  success,  and  be 
too  much  controlled  and  limited  by  the  example  therein 
set  to  them.  There  is  a  great  deal  to  induce  a  son  to 
do  so  ;  this  calling  has  been  successful  in  his  father's 
case,  what  better  can  he  do  than  follow  ?  Also  he  may 
get  the  use  of  his  wells — those  sources  his  father  has- 


Gen.  XXV.]  ESAU  AND  JACOB,  255 

opened  for  the  easier  or  more  abundant  maintenance 
of  those  dependent  on  him,  the  business  he  has  esta- 
bhshed,  the  practice  he  has  made,  the  connections  he 
has  formed — these  are  useful  if  he  follows  in  his 
father's  line  of  life.  But  all  this  tends,  as  in  Isaac's 
case,  to  the  stunting  of  the  man  himself.  Life  is  made 
too  easy  for  him. 

Isaac  has  been  called  "  the  Wordsworth  of  the  Old 
Testament,"  but  his  meditative  disposition  seems  to 
have  degenerated  into  mere  dreamy  apathy,  which,  at 
last,  made  him  the  tool  of  the  more  active-minded 
members  of  his  family,  and  was  also  attended  by  its 
common  accompaniment  of  sensuality.  It  seems  also 
to  have  brought  him  to  a  condition  of  almost  entire 
bodily  prostration,  for  a  comparison  of  dates  shows 
that  he  must  have  spent  forty  or  fifty  years  in  blind- 
ness and  incapacity  for  all  active  duty.  Neither  can 
this  greatly  surprise  us,  for  it  is  abundantly  open  to 
our  own  observation  that  men  of  the  finest  spiritual 
discernment,  and  of  whose  godliness  in  the  main  one 
cannot  doubt,  are  also  frequently  the  prey  of  the  most 
childish  tastes,  and  most  useless  even  to  the  extent  of 
doing  harm  in  practical  matters.  They  do  not  see  the 
evil  that  is  growing  in  their  own  family ;  or,  if  they  see 
it,  they  cannot  rouse  themselves  to  check  it. 

Isaac's  marriage,  though  so  promising  in  the  outset, 
brought  new  trial  into  his  life.  Rebekah  had  to  repeat 
the  experience  of  Sarah.  The  intended  mother  of  the 
promised  seed  was  left  for  twenty  years  childless — 
to  contend  with  the  doubts,  surmises,  evil  proposals, 
proud  challengings  of  God,  and  murmurings,  which 
must  undoubtedly  have  arisen  even  in  so  bright  and 
spirited  a  heart  as  Rebckah's.  It  was  thus  she  was 
taught  the  seriousness  of  the  position  she  had  chosen 


256  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

for  herself,  and  gradually  led  to  the  implicit  faith 
requisite  for  the  discharge  of  its  responsibilities.  Many 
young  persons  have  a  similar  experience.  They  seem 
to  themselves  to  have  chosen  a  wrong  position,  to  have 
made  a  thorough  mistake  in  life,  and  to  have  brought 
themselves  into  circumstances  in  which  they  only  retard, 
or  quite  prevent,  the  prosperity  of  those  with  whom 
they  are  connected.  In  proportion  as  Rebekah  loved 
Isaac,  and  entered  into  his  prospects,  must  she  have 
been  tempted  to  think  she  had  far  better  have  remained 
in  Padan-aram.  It  is  a  humbling  thing  to  stand  in 
some  other  person's  way  ;  but  if  it  is  by  no  fault  of 
ours,  but  in  obedience  to  affliction  or  conscience  we  are 
in  this  position,  we  must,  in  humility  and  patience, 
wait  upon  Providence  as  Rebekah  did,  and  resist  all 
morbid  despondency. 

This  second  barrenness  in  the  prospective  mother 
of  the  promised  seed  was  as  needful  to  all  concerned 
as  the  first  was ;  for  the  people  of  God,  no  more  than 
any  others,  can  learn  in  one  lesson.  They  must  again 
be  brought  to  a  real  dependence  on  God  as  the  Giver 
of  the  heir.  The  prayer  with  which  Isaac  "entreated" 
the  Lord  for  his  wife  "  because  she  was  barren "  was 
a  prayer  of  deeper  intensity  than  he  could  have  uttered 
had  he  merely  remxembered  the  story  that  had  been 
told  him  of  his  own  birth,  God  must  be  recognised 
again  and  again  and  throughout  as  the  Giver  of  life 
to  the  promised  line.  We  are  all  apt  to  suppose  that 
when  once  we  have  got  a  thing  in  train  and  working 
we  can  get  on  without  God.  How  often  do  we  pray 
for  the  bestowal  of  a  blessing,  and  forget  to  pray  for 
its  continuance  ?  How  often  do  we  count  it  enough 
that  God  has  conferred  some  gift,  and,  not  inviting 
Him  to  continue  His  agenc}'-,  but  trusting  to  ourselves, 


Gen.  XXV.]  ESAU  AND  JACOB.  257 

we  mar  His  gift  in  the  use  ?  Learn,  therefore,  that 
although  God  has  given  you  means  of  working  out  His 
salvation,  your  Rebekah  will  be  barren  without  His 
continued  activity.  On  His  own  means  you  must 
re-invite  His  blessing,  for  without  the  continuance  of 
His  aid  3'ou  will  make  nothing  of  the  most  beautiful 
and  appropriate  helps  He  has  given  you. 

It  was  by  pain,  anxiety,  and  almost  dismay,  that 
Rebekah  received  intimation  that  her  prayer  was  an- 
swered. In  this  she  is  the  t3^pe  of  many  whom  God 
hears.  Inward  strife,  miserable  forebodings,  deep  de- 
jection, are  often  the  first  intimations  that  God  is 
listening  to  our  prayer  and  is  beginning  to  work  within 
us.  You  have  prayed  that  God  would  make  you  more 
a  blessing  to  those  about  you,  more  useful  in  your 
place,  more  answerable  to  His  ends :  and  when  your 
prayer  has  risen  to  its  highest  point  of  confidence  and 
expectation,  you  are  thrown  into  what  seems  a  v.'orse 
state  than  ever,  your  heart  is  broken  wiihin  you,  you 
say,  Is  this  the  answer  to  my  prayer,  is  this  God's 
blessing;  if  it  be  so,  why  am  I  thus  ?  For  things  that 
make  a  man  serious,  happen  when  God  takes  him  in 
hand,  and  they  that  yield  themselves  to  His  service 
will  not  find  that  that  service  is  all  honour  and  enjoy- 
ment. Its  first  steps  will  often  land  us  in  a  position 
we  can  make  nothing  of,  and  our  attempts  to  aid  others 
will  get  us  into  difiiculties  with  them  ;  and  especially 
will  our  desire  that  Christ  be  formed  in  us  bring  into 
such  hvely  action  the  evil  nature  that  is  in  us,  that  we 
are  torn  by  the  conflict,  and  our  heart  lies  like  the 
ground  of  a  fierce  struggle,  seamed  and  furrowed, 
tossed  and  confused.  As  soon  as  there  is  a  movement 
within  us  in  one  direction,  immediately  there  is  an 
opposing  movement :    as  soon   as   one  of  the  natures 

17 


258  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

says,  Do  this ;  the  other  says,  Do  it  not.  The  better 
nature  is  gaining  slightly  the  upper  hand,  and  by  a 
long,  steady  strain,  seems  to  be  wearying  out  the 
other,  when  suddenly  there  is  one  quick  stroke  and 
the  evil  nature  conquers.  And  every  movement  of  the 
parties  is  with  pain  to  ourselves ;  either  conscience  is 
wronged,  and  gives  out  its  cry  of  shame,  or  our  natural 
desires  are  trodden  down,  and  that  also  is  pain.  And 
so  disconnected  and  connected  are  we,  so  entirely  one 
with  both  parties,  and  yet  so  able  to  contemplate  both 
that  Rebekah's  distress  seems  aptly  enough  to  sym- 
bolize our  own.  And  whether  the  symbol  be  apt 
or  no,  there  can  be  no  question  that  he  who  enquires 
of  the  Lord  as  she  did,  will  receive  a  similar  assur- 
ance that  there  are  two  natures  within  him,  and  that 
"  the  elder  shall  serve  the  younger,"  the  nature  last 
formed,  and  that  seems  to  give  least  promise  of  life, 
shall  master  the  original,  eldest  born  child  of  the 
flesh. 

The  children  whose  birth  and  destinies  were  thus 
predicted,  at  once  gave  evidence  of  a  difference  even 
greater  than  that  which  v.'ill  often  strike  one  as  existing 
between  two  brothers,  though  rarely  between  twins. 
The  first  was  born,  all  over  like  a  hairy  garment, 
presenting  the  appearance  of  being  rolled  up  in  a  fur 
cloak  or  the  skin  of  an  animal — an  appearance  which 
did  not  pass  away  in  childhood,  but  so  obstinately 
adhered  to  him  through  life,  that  an  imitation  of  his 
hands  could  be  produced  with  the  hairy  skin  of  a  kid. 
This  was  by  his  parents  considered  ominous.  The 
want  of  the  hairy  covering  which  the  lower  animals 
have,  is  one  of  the  signs  marking  out  man  as  destined 
for  a  higher  and  more  refined  life  than  they ;  and  when 
their  son  appeared   in  this  guise,  they  could  not  but 


Gen.  XXV.]  ESAU  AND  JACOB.  259 

fear  it  prognosticated  his  sensual,  animal  career.  So 
they  called  him  Esau.  And  so  did  the  younger  son 
from  the  first  show  his  nature,  catching  the  heel  of  his 
brother,  as  if  he  were  striving  to  be  firstborn ;  and  so 
they  called  him  Jacob,  the  heel-catcher  or  supplanter 
— as  Esau  afterwards  bitterly  observed,  a  name  which 
precisely  suited  his  crafty,  plotting  nature,  shown  in 
his  twice  over  tripping  up  and  overthrowing  his  elder 
brother.  The  name  which  Esau  handed  down  to  his 
people  was,  however,  not  his  original  name,  but  one 
derived  from  the  colour  of  that  for  which  he  sold  his 
birthright.  It  was  in  that  exclamation  of  his,  "  Feed 
me  with  that  same  red',''  that  he  disclosed  his  character. 
So  different  in  appearance  at  birth,  they  grew  up 
of  very  different  character;  and  as  was  natural,  he 
who  had  the  quiet  nature  of  his  father  was  beloved  by 
the  mother,  and  he  who  had  the  bold,  practical  skill 
of  the  mother  was  clung  to  by  the  father.  It  seems 
unlikely  that  Rebekah  was  influenced  in  her  affection 
by  an3fthing  but  natural  motives,  though  the  fact  that 
Jacob  was  to  be  the  heir  must  have  been  much  on  her 
mind,  and  may  have  produced  the  partiality  which 
maternal  pride  sometimes  begets.  But  before  we  con- 
demn Isaac,  or  think  the  historian  has  not  given  a  full 
account  of  his  love  for  Esau,  let  us  ask  what  we  have 
noticed  about  the  growth  and  decay  of  our  own  affec- 
tions. We  are  ashamed  of  Isaac ;  but  have  we  not 
also  been  sometimes  ashamed  of  ourselves  on  seeing 
that  our  affections  are  powerfully  influenced  by  the 
gratification  of  tastes  almost  or  quite  as  low  as  this  of 
Isaacs?  He  who  cunningly  panders  to  our  taste  for 
applause,  he  who  purveys  for  us  some  sweet  morsel 
of  scandal,  he  who  flatters  or  amuses  us,  straightway 
takes  a  place  in  our  affections  which  we  do  not  c^ccord 


26o  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

to  men  of  much  finer  parts,  but  who  do  not  so  minister 
to  our  sordid  appetites. 

The  character  of  Jacob  is  easily  understood.  It  has 
frequently  been  remarked  of  him  that  he  is  thoroughly 
a  Jew,  that  in  him  you  find  the  good  and  bad  features 
of  the  Jewish  character  very  prominent  and  conspicuous. 
He  has  that  mingling  of  craft  and  endurance  which  has 
enabled  his  descendants  to  use  for  their  own  ends 
those  who  have  wronged  and  persecuted  them.  The 
Jew  has,  with  some  justice  and  some  injustice,  been 
credited  with  an  obstinate  and  unscrupulous  resolution 
to  forward  his  own  interests,  and  there  can  be  no 
question  that  in  this  respect  Jacob  is  the  typical  Jew 
— ruthlessly  taking  advantage  of  his  brother,  watching 
and  waiting  till  he  was  sure  of  his  victim  ;  deceiving 
his  blind  father,  and  robbing  him  of  what  he  had 
intended  for  his  favourite  son  ;  outwitting  the  grasping 
Laban,  and  making  at  least  his  own  out  of  all  attempts 
to  rob  him  ;  unable  to  meet  his  brother  without  strata- 
gem ;  not  forgetting  prudence  even  when  the  honour 
of  his  family  is  stained  ;  and  not  thrown  off  his  guard 
even  by  his  true  and  deep  affection  for  Joseph.  Yet, 
while  one  recoils  from  this  craftiness  and  management, 
one  cannot  but  admire  the  quiet  force  of  character,  the 
indomitable  tenacity,  and,  above  all,  the  capacity  for 
warm  affection  and  lasting  attachments,  that  he  showed 
throughout. 

But  the  quality  which  chiefly  distinguished  Jacob 
from  his  hunting  and  marauding  brother  was  his 
desire  for  the  friendship  of  God  and  sensibility  to 
spiritual  influences.  It  may  have  been  Jacob's  con- 
sciousness of  his  own  meanness  that  led  him  to  crave 
connection  with  some  Being  or  with  some  prospect 
that  might  ennoble  his  nature  and  lift  him  above  his 


Gen.  XXV.]  ESAU  AND  JACOB.  261 

innate  disposition.  It  is  an  old,  old  truth  that  not 
many  noble  are  called  ;  and,  seeing  quite  as  plainly  as 
others  see  their  feebleness  and  meanness,  the  ignoble 
conceive  a  self-loathing  which  is  sometimes  the  begin- 
ning of  an  unquenchable  thirst  for  the  high  and  holy 
God.  The  consciousness  of  your  bad,  poor  nature 
may  revive  within  you  day  by  day,  as  the  remembrance 
of  physical  weakness  returns  to  the  invalid  with  every 
morning's  light ;  but  to  what  else  can  God  so  effectively 
appeal  when  he  offers  you  present  fellowship  with 
Himself  and  eventual  conformity  to  His  own  nature  ? 
It  has  been  pointed  out  that  the  weakness  in  Esau's 
character  which  makes  him  so  striking  a  contrast  to 
his  brother  is  his  inconstancy. 

"  That  one  error 
Fills  him  with  faults  ;  makes  him  run  through  all  the  sins." 

Constancy,  persistence,  dogged  tenacity  is  certainly 
the  striking  feature  of  Jacob's  character.  He  could 
wait  and  bide  his  time ;  he  could  retain  one  purpose 
year  after  year  till  it  was  accomplished.  The  very 
motto  of  his  life  was,  "  I  will  not  let  Thee  go  except 
Thou  bless  me."  He  watched  for  Esau's  weak  momen 
and  took  advantage  of  it.  He  served  fourteen  years 
for  the  woman  he  loved,  and  no  hardship  quenched  his 
love.  Nay,  when  a  whole  lifetime  intervened,  and  he 
lay  dying  in  Egypt,  his  constant  heart  still  turned  to 
Rachel,  as  if  he  had  parted  with  her  but  yesterday. 
In  contrast  with  this  tenacious,  constant  character 
stands  Esau,  led  by  impulse,  betrayed  by  appetite, 
everything  by  turns  and  nothing  long.  To-day  de- 
spising his  birthright,  to-morrow  breaking  his  heart 
for  its  loss ;  to-day  vowing  he  will  murder  his  brother, 
to-morrow  falling  on  his  neck  and  kissing  him  ;  a  man 


262  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

you  cannot  reckon  upon,  and  of  too  shallow  a  nature 
for  anything  to  root  itself  deeply  in. 

The  event  in  which  the  contrasted  characters  of  the 
twin  brothers  were  most  decisively  shown,  so  decisively 
shown  that  their  destinies  were  fixed  by  it,  was  an 
incident  which,  in  its  external  circumstances,  was  of 
the  most  ordinary  and  trivial  kind.  Esau  came  in 
hungry  from  hunting  :  from  dawn  to  dusk  he  had 
been  taxing  his  strength  to  the  utmost,  too  eagerly 
absorbed  to  notice  either  his  distance  from  home  or 
his  hunger;  it  is  only  when  he  begins  to  return 
depressed  by  the  ill-luck  of  the  day,  and  with  nothing 
now  to  stimulate  him,  that  he  feels  faint ;  and  when 
at  last  he  reaches  his  father's  tents,  and  the  savoury 
smell  of  Jacob's  lentiles  greets  him,  his  ravenous 
appetite  becomes  an  intolerable  craving,  and  he  begs 
Jacob  to  give  him  some  of  his  food.  Had  Jacob  done 
so  with  brotherly  feeling  there  would  have  been  nothing 
to  record.  But  Jacob  had  long  been  watching  for  an 
opportunity  to  win  his  brother's  birthright,  and  though 
no  one  could  have  supposed  that  an  heir  to  even  a 
little  property  would  sell  it  in  order  to  get  a  meal  five 
minutes  sooner  than  he  could  otherwise  get  it,  Jacob 
had  taken  his  brother's  measure  to  a  nicety,  and  was 
confident  that  present  appetite  would  in  Esau  com- 
pletely extinguish  every  other  thought. 

It  is  perhaps  worth  noticing  that  the  birthright  in 
Ishmael's  line,  the  guardianship  of  the  temple  at  Mecca, 
passed  from  one  branch  of  the  family  to  another  in 
a  precisely  similar  way.  We  read  that  when  the 
guardianship  of  the  temple  and  the  governorship  of 
the  town  "fell  into  the  hands  of  Abu  Gabshan,  a  weak 
and  silly  man,  Cosa,  one  of  Mohammed's  ancestors,' 
circumvented   him  while    in   a   drunken    humour,   and 


Gen.  XXV.]  ESAU  AND  JACOB.  263 

bought  of  him  the  keys  of  the  temple,  and  with  them 
the  presidency  of  it,  for  a  bottle  of  wine.  But  Abu 
Gabshan  being  gotten  out  of  his  drunken  fit,  sufficiently 
repented  of  his  foolish  bargain ;  from  whence  grew 
these  proverbs  among  the  Arabs  :  More  vexed  with 
late  repentance  than  Abu  Gabshan ;  and,  More  silly 
than  Abu  Gabshan — which  are  usually  said  of  those 
who  part  with  a  thing  of  great  moment  for  a  small 
matter." 

Which  brother  presents  the  more  repulsive  spectacle 
of  the  two  in  this  selling  of  the  birthright  it  is  hard  to 
say.  Who  does  not  feel  contempt  for  the  great,  strong 
man,  declaring  he  will  die  if  he  is  required  to  wait  five 
minutes  till  his  own  supper  is  prepared ;  forgetting,  in 
the  craving  of  his  appetite,  every  consideration  of  a 
worthy  kind ;  oblivious  of  everything  but  his  hunger 
and  his  food  ;  crying,  like  a  great  baby,  Feed  me  with 
that  red!  So  it  is  always  with  the  man  who  has  fallen 
under  the  power  of  sensual  appetite.  He  is  always 
going  to  die  if  it  is  not  immediately  gratified.  He 
must  have  his  appetite  satisfied.  No  consideration  of 
consequences  can  be  listened  to  or  thought  of;  the 
man  is  helpless  in  the  hands  of  his  appetite — it  rules 
and  drives  him  on,  and  he  is  utterly  without  self- 
control  ;  nothing  but  physical  compulsion  can  restrain 
him. 

But  the  treacherous  and  self-seeking  craft  of  the 
other  brother  is  as  repulsive  ;  the  cold-blooded,  calculat- 
ing spirit  that  can  hold  every  appetite  in  check,  that 
can  cleave  to  one  purpose  for  a  life-time,  and,  without 
scruple,  take  advantage  of  a  twin-brother's  weakness. 
Jacob  knows  his  brother  thoroughly,  and  all  his  know- 
ledge he  uses  to  betray  him.  He  knows  he  will  speedily 
repent  of  his  bargain,  so  he  makes  him  swear  he  will 


264  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

abide  by  it.  It  is  a  relentless  purpose  he  carries  out — 
he  deliberately  and  unhesitatingly  sacrifices  his  brother 
to  himself. 

Still,  in  two  respects,  Jacob  is  the  superior  man. 
He  can  appreciate  the  birthright  in  his  father's  family, 
and  he  has  constancy.  Esau  might  be  a  pleasant  com- 
panion, far  brighter  and  more  vivacious  than  Jacob  on 
a  day's  hunting ;  free  and  open-handed,  and  not  implac- 
able ;  and  yet  such  people  are  not  satisfactory  friends. 
Often  the  most  attractive  people  have  similar  incon- 
stancy; they  have  a  superficial  vivacity,  and  brilliance, 
and  charm,  and  good-nature,  which  invite  a  friendship 
they  do  not  deserve. 

Parents  frequently  make  the  mistake  of  Isaac,  and 
think  more  highly  of  the  gay,  sparkling,  but  shallow 
child,  than  of  the  child  who  cannot  be  always  smiling, 
but  broods  over  what  he  conceives  to  be  his  wrongs. 
Sulkiness  is  itself  not  a  pleasing  feature  in  a  child's 
character,  but  it  may  only  be  the  childish  expression 
of  constancy,  and  of  a  depth  of  character  which  is  slow 
to  let  go  any  impression  made  upon  it.  On  the  other 
hand,  frankness  and  a  quick  throwing  aside  of  passion 
and  resentment  are  pleasing  features  in  a  child,  but 
often  these  are  only  the  expressions  of  a  fickle  cha- 
racter, rapidly  changing  from  sun  to  shower  like  an 
April  day,  and  not  to  be  trusted  for  retaining  affection 
or  good  impressions  any  longer  than  it  retains  re- 
sentment. 

But  Esau's  despising  of  his  birthright  is  that  which 
stamps  the  man  and  makes  him  interesting  to  each 
generation.  No  one  can  read  the  simple  account  of 
his  reckless  act  without  feeling  how  justly  we  are 
called  upon  to  "  look  diligently  lest  there  be  among 
us  any  profane  person  as  Esau,  who,  for  one  morsel 


Gen.  XXV.]  ESAU  AND  JACOB.  265 

of  meat,  sold  his  birthright."  Had  the  birthright  been 
something  to  eat,  Esau  would  not  have  sold  it.  What 
an  exhibition  of  human  nature  !  What  an  exposure 
of  our  childish  folly  and  the  infatuation  of  appetite  ! 
For  Esau  has  company  in  his  fall.  We  are  all  stricken 
by  his  shame.  We  are  conscious  that  if  God  had  made 
provision  for  the  flesh  we  shoul-d  have  listened  to  Him 
more  readily.  "  But  what  will  this  birthright  profit 
us  ?  "  We  do  not  see  the  good  it  does  :  were  it  some- 
thing to  keep  us  from  disease,  to  give  us  long  unsated 
days  of  pleasure,  to  bring  us  the  fruits  of  labour  with- 
out the  weariness  of  it,  to  make  money  for  us,  where  is 
the  man  who  would  not  value  it — where  is  the  man 
who  would  lightly  give  it  up  ?  But  because  it  is  only 
the  favour  of  God  that  is  offered.  His  endless  love,  His 
holiness  made  ours,  this  we  will  imperil  or  resign  for 
every  idle  desire,  for  every  lust  that  bids  us  serve  it 
a  little  longer.  Born  the  sons  of  God,  made  in  His 
image,  introduced  to  a  birthright  angels  might  covet, 
we  yet  prefer  to  rank  with  the  beasts  of  the  field, 
and  let  our  souls  starve  if  only  our  bodies  be  well 
tended  and  cared  for. 

There  is  in  Esau's  conduct  and  after-experience  so 
much  to  stir  serious  thought,  that  one  always  feels 
reluctant  to  pass  from  it,  and  as  if  much  more  ought 
to  be  made  of  it.  It  reflects  so  many  features  of  our 
own  conduct,  and  so  clearly  shows  us  what  we  are 
from  day  to  day  liable  to,  that  we  would  wish  to  take 
it  with  us  through  life  as  a  perpetual  admonition. 
Who  does  not  know  of  those  moments  of  weakness, 
when  we  are  fagged  with  work,  and  with  our  physical 
energy  our  moral  tone  has  become  relaxed  ?  Who 
does  not  know  how,  in  hours  of  reaction  from  keen 
and  exciting  engagements,  sensual  appetite  asserts  itself. 


266  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS 

and  with  what  petulance  we  inwardly  cr}^,  We  shall  die 
if  we  do  not  get  this  or  that  paltry  gratification  ?  We 
are,  for  the  most  part,  inconstant  as  Esau,  full  of  good 
resolves  to-day,  and  to-morrow  throwing  them  to  the 
winds — to-day  proud  of  the  arduousness  of  cur  calling, 
and  girding  ourselves  to  self-control  and  self-denial, 
to-morrow  sinking  back  to  softness  and  self-indulgence. 
Not  once  as  Esau,  but  again  and  again  we  barter  peace 
of  conscience  and  fellowship  with  God  and  the  hope  of 
holiness,  for  what  is,  in  simple  fact,  no  more  than  a 
bowl  of  pottage.  Even  after  recognising  our  weakness 
and  the  lowness  of  our  tastes,  and  after  repenting  with 
self-loathing  and  misery,  some  slight  pleasure  is  enough 
to  upset  our  steadfast  mind,  and  make  us  as  plastic  as 
clay  in  the  hand  of  circumstances.  It  is  with  positive 
dismay  one  considers  the  weakness  and  blindness  of 
our  hours  of  appetite  and  passion  :  how  one  goes  then 
like  an  ox  to  the  slaughter,  all  unconscious  of  the  pit- 
falls that  betray  and  destroy  men,  and  how  at  any 
moment  we  ourselves  may  truly  sell  our  birthright. 


XXI. 

JACOB'S  FRAUD.  \ 

Genesis  xxvii. 
"The  counsel  of  the  Lord  standeth  for  ever." — PsALM  xxxili.  II. 

THERE  are  some  families  whose  miserable  exist- 
ence is  almost  entirely  made  up  of  malicious 
plottings  and  counter-plottings,  little  mischievous 
designs,  and  spiteful  triumphs  of  one  member  or  party 
in  the  family  over  the  other.  It  is  not  pleasant  to 
have  the  veil  withdrawn,  and  to  see  that  where  love 
and  eager  self-sacrifice  might  be  expected  their 
places  are  occupied  by  an  eager  assertion  of  rights, 
and  a  cold,  proud,  and  always  petty  and  stupid, 
nursing  of  some  supposed  injury.  In  the  story  told 
us  so  graphically  in  this  page,  we  see  the  family 
whom  God  has  blessed  snnk  to  this  low  level,  and 
betrayed  by  family  jealousies  into  unseemly  strife  on 
the  most  sacred  ground.  Each  member  of  the  family 
plans  his  own  wicked  device,  and  God  by  the  evil  of 
one  defeats  the  evil  of  another,  and  saves  His  own 
purpose  to  bless  the  race  from  being  frittered  away 
and  lost.  And  it  is  told  us  in  order  that,  amidst  all 
this  mess  of  human  craft  and  selfishness,  the  righteous- 
ness and  stability  of  God's  word  of  promise  may  be 
more  vividly  seen.  Let  us  look  at  the  sin  of  each  of 
the  parties  in  order,  and  the  punishment  of  each. 


268  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

In  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  Isaac  is  commended 
for  his  faith  in  blessing"  his  sons.  It  was  commendable 
in  him  that,  in  great  bodily  weakness,  he  still  believed 
himself  to  be  the  guardian  of  God's  blessing,  and 
recognised  that  he  had  a  great  inheritance  to  bequeath 
to  his  sons.  But,  in  unaccountable  and  inconsistent 
contempt  of  God's  expressed  purpose,  he  proposes  to 
hand  over  this  blessing  to  Esau.  Many  things  had 
occurred  to  fix  his  attention  upon  the  fact  that  Esau 
was  not  to  be  his  heir.  Esau  had  sold  his  birthright, 
and  had  married  Hittite  women,  and  his  whole  con- 
duct was,  no  doubt,  of  a  piece  with  this,  and  showed 
that,  in  his  hands,  any  spiritual  inheritance  would  be 
both  unsafe  and  unappreciated.  That  Isaac  had  some 
notion  he  was  doing  wrong  in  giving  to  Esau  what 
belonged  to  God,  and  what  God  meant  to  give  to 
Jacob,  is  shown  from  his  precipitation  in  bestowing 
.  the  blessing.  He  has  no  feeling  that  he  is  authorized 
by  God,  and  therefore  he  cannot  wait  calmly  till  God 
should  intimate,  by  unmistakable  signs,  that  he  is  near 
his  end ;  but,  seized  with  a  panic  lest  his  favourite 
should  somehow  be  left  unblessed,  he  feels,  in  his 
nervous  alarm,  as  if  he  were  at  the  point  of  death,  and, 
though  destined  to  live  for  forty-three  years  longer,  he 
calls  Esau  that  he  may  hand  over  to  him  his  dying 
testament.  How  different  is  the  nerve  of  a  man  when 
he  knows  he  is  doing  God's  will,  and  when  he  is  but 
fulfilling  his  own  device.  For  the  same  reason,  he 
has  to  stimulate  his  spirit  by  artificial  means.  The 
prophetic  ecstasy  is  not  felt  by  him ;  he  must  be 
exhilarated  by  venison  and  wine,  that,  strengthened 
and  revived  in  body,  and  having  his  gratitude  aroused 
afresh  towards  Esau,  he  may  bless  him  with  all  the 
greater  vigour.     The  final  stimulus  is  given  when  he 


Gen.  xxvii.]  JACOB'S  FRAUD.  269 

smells  the  garments  of  Esau  on  Jacob,  and  when  that 
fresh  earthy  smell  which  so  revives  us  in  spring,  as 
if  our  life  were  renewed  with  the  year,  and  which 
hangs  about  one  who  has  been  in  the  open  air,  entered 
into  Isaac's  blood,  and  lent  him  fresh  vigour. 

It  is  a  strange  and,  in  some  respects,  perplexing 
spectacle  that  is  here  presented  to  us — the  organ  of  the 
Divine  blessing  represented  by  a  blind  old  man,  laid 
on  a  "  couch  of  skins,"  stimulated  by  meat  and  wine, 
and  trying  to  cheat  God  by  bestowing  the  family 
blessing  on  the  son  of  his  own  choice  to  the  exclusion 
of  the  divinely-appointed  heir.  Out  of  such  beginnings 
had  God  to  educate  a  people  worthy  of  Himself,  and 
through  such  hazards  had  He  to  guide  the  spiritual 
blessing  He  designed  to  convey  to  us  all. 

Isaac  laid  a  net  for  his  own  feet.  By  his  un- 
righteous and  timorous  haste  he  secured  the  defeat  of 
his  own  long-cherished  scheme.  It  was  his  hasting 
to  bless  Esau  which  drove  Rebckah  to  checkmate  him 
by.  winning  the  blessing  for  her  favourite.  The  shock 
which  Isaac  felt  when  Esau  came  in  and  the  fraud  was 
discovered  is  easily  understood.  The  mortification  of 
the  old  man  must  have  been  extreme  when  he  found 
that  he  had  so  completely  taken  himself  in.  He  was 
reclining  in  the  satisfied  reflection  that  for  once  he  had 
overreached  his  astute  Rebekah  and  her  astute  son, 
and  in  the  comfortable  feeling  that,  at  last,  he  had 
accomplished  his  one  remaining  desire,  when  he  learns 
from  the  exceeding  bitter  cry  of  Esau  that  he  has 
himself  been  duped.  It  was  enough  to  rouse  the 
anger  of  the  mildest  and  godliest  of  men,  but  Isaac 
does  not  storm  and  protest — "  he  trembles  exceedingly." 
He  recognises,  by  a  spiritual  insight  quite  unknown 
to    Esau,    that    this    is   God's    hand,    and    deliberately 


270  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

confirms,  with  his  eyes  open,  what  he  had  done  in 
blindness  :  "  I  have  blessed  him :  Yea,  and  he  shall  be 
blessed."  Had  he  wished  to  deny  the  validity  of  the 
blessing,  he  had  ground  enough  for  doing  so.  He  had 
not  really  given  it :  it  had  been  stolen  from  him.  An 
act  must  be  judged  by  its  intention,  and  he  had  been 
far  from  intending  to  bless  Jacob.  "Was  he  to  con- 
sider himself  bound  by  what  he  had  done  under  a 
misapprehension  ?  He  had  given  a  blessing  to  one 
person  under  the  impression  that  he  was  a  different 
person  ;  must  not  the  blessing  go  to  him  for  whom  it 
was  designed  ?     But  Isaac  unhesitatingly  yielded. 

This  clear  recognition  of  God's  hand  in  the  matter, 
and  quick  submission  to  Him,  reveals  a  habit  of  re- 
flection, and  a  spiritual  thoughtfulness,  which  are  the 
good  qualities  in  Isaac's  otherwise  unsatisfactor}'-  cha- 
racter. Before  he  finished  his  answer  to  Esau,  he  felt 
he  was  a  poor  feeble  creature  in  the  hand  of  a  true 
and  just  God,  who  had  used  even  his  infirmity  and  sin 
to  forward  righteous  and  gracious  ends.  It  was  his 
sudden  recognition  of  the  frightful  way  in  which  *he 
had  been  tampering  with  God's  will,  and  of  the  grace 
with  which  God  had  prevented  him  from  accomplishing 
a  wrong  destination  of  the  inheritance,  that  made  Isaac 
tremble  very  exceedingly.  ' 

In  this  humble  acceptance  of  the  disappointment  of 
his  life's  love  and  hope,  Isaac  shows  us  the  manner  in 
which  we  ought  to  bear  the  consequences  of  our  wrong- 
doing. The  punishment  of  our  sin  often  comes  through 
the  persons  with  whom  we  have  to  do,  unintentionally 
on  their  part,  and  yet  we  are  tempted  to  hate  them 
because  they  pain  and  punish  us,  father,  mother,  wife, 
child,  or  whoever  else.  Isaac  and  Esau  were  alike  dis- 
appointed,    Esau  only  saw  the  supplanter,   and  vowed 


Gen.xxvii.]  JACOB'S  FRAUD.  271 

to  be  revenged.  Isaac  saw  God  in  the  matter,  and 
trembled.  So  when  Shimei  cursed  David,  and  his 
loyal  retainers  would  have  cut  off  his  head  for  so  doing, 
David  said,  "Let  him  alone,  and  let  him  curse  :  it  may 
be  that  the  Lord  hath  bidden  him."  We  can  bear  the 
pain  inflicted  on  us  by  men  when  we  see  that  they  are 
merely  the  instruments  of  a  divine  chastisement.  The 
persons  who  thwart  us  and  make  our  life  bitter,  the 
persons  who  stand  between  us  and  our  dearest  hopes, 
the  persons  whom  we  are  most  disposed  to  speak 
angrily  and  bitterly  to,  are  often  thorns  planted  in  our 
path  by  God  to  keep  us  on  the  right  way. 

Isaac's  sin  propagated  itself  with  the  rapid  multi- 
plication of  all  sin.  Rebekah  overheard  what  passed 
between  Isaac  and  Esau,  and  although  she  might  have 
been  able  to  wait  until  by  fair  means  Jacob  received 
the  blessing,  yet  when  she  sees  Isaac  actually  pre- 
paring to  pass  Jacob  by  and  bless  Esau,  her  fears  are 
so  excited  that  she  cannot  any  longer  quietly  leave  the 
matter  in  God's  hand,  but  must  lend  her  own  more 
skilful  management.  It  may  have  crossed  her  mind 
that  she  was  justified  in  forwarding  what  she  knew  to 
be  God's  purpose.  She  saw  no  other  way  of  saving 
God's  purpose  and  Jacob's  rights  than  by  her  inter- 
ference. The  emergency  might  have  unnerved  many 
a  woman,  but  Rebekah  is  equal  to  the  occasion.  She 
makes  the  threatened  exclusion  of  Jacob  the  very  means 
for  at  last  finally  settling  the  inheritance  upon  him. 
She  braves  the  indignation  of  Isaac  and  the  rage  of 
Esau,  and  fearless  herself,  and  confident  of  success,  she, 
soon  quiets  the  timorous  and  cautious  objections  of 
Jacob.  She  knows  that  for  straightforward  lying  and 
acting  a  part  she  was  sure  of  good  support  in  Jacob. 
Luther  says,  "Had  it  been  me,  I'd  have  dropped  the 


272  THE  BOCK  OF  GENESIS. 

dish."  But  Jacob  had  no  such  tremors — could  submit 
his  hands  and  face  to  the  touch  of  Isaac,  and  repeat  his 
lie  as  often  as  needful. 

An  old  man  bedridden  like  Isaac  becomes  the  subject 
of  a  number  of  little  deceptions  which  may  seem,  and 
which  may  be,  very  unimportant  in  themselves,  but 
which  are  seen  to  wear  down  the  reverence  due  to  the 
father  of  a  family,  and  which  imperceptibly  sap  the 
guileless  sincerity  and  truthfulness  of  those  who  practise 
them.  This  overreaching  of  Isaac  by  dressing  Jacob 
in  Esau's  clothes,  might  come  in  naturally  as  one  of 
those  daily  deceptions  which  Rebekah  was  accustomed 
to  practise  on  the  old  man  whom  she  kept  quite  in  her 
own  hand,  giving  him  as  much  or  as  little  insight  into 
the  doings  of  the  family  as  seemed  advisable  to  her. 
It  would  never  occur  to  her  that  she  was  taking  God 
in  hand  ;  it  would  seem  only  as  if  she  were  making 
such  use  of  Isaac's  infirmity  as  she  was  in  the  daily 
practice  of  doing. 

But  to  account  for  an  act  is  not  to  excuse  it.  Under- 
lying the  conduct  of  Rebekah  and  Jacob  was  the  con- 
viction that  they  would  come  better  speed  by  a  little 
deceit  of  their  own  than  by  suffering  God  to  further 
them  in  His  own  way — that  though  God  would  certainly 
not  practise  deception  Himself,  He  might  not  object  to 
others  doing  so — that  in  this  emergency  holiness  was 
a  hampering  thing  which  might  just  for  a  little  be  laid 
aside  that  they  might  be  more  holy  afterwards — that 
though  no  doubt  in  ordinary  circumstances,  and  as  a 
normal  habit,  deceit  is  not  to  be  commended,  yet  in 
cases  of  difficulty,  which  call  for  ready  wit,  a  prompt 
seizure,  and  delicate  handling,  men  must  be  allowed  to 
secure  their  ends  in  their  own  way.  Their  unbelief 
thus  directly  produced  immorality — immora]ii:y  of  a  very 


Gen.xxvii.]  JACOB'S  FRAUD.  273 

revolting  kind,  the  defrauding  of  their  relatives,  and 
repulsive  also  because  practised  as  if  on  God's  side,  or, 
as  we  should  now  say,  "in  the  interests  of  religion." 

To  this  day  the  method  of  Rebekah  and  Jacob  is 
largely  adopted  by  religious  persons.  It  is  notorious 
that  persons  whose  ends  are  good  frequently  become 
thoroughly  unscrupulous  about  the  means  they  use 
to  accomplish  them.  They  dare  not  say  in  so  many 
words  that  the}'  may  do  evil  that  good  may  come,  nor 
do  they  think  it  a  tenable  position  in  morals  that  the 
end  sanctifies  the  means ;  and  yet  their  consciousness 
of  a  justifiable  and  desirable  end  undoubtedly  does 
blunt  their  sensitiveness  regarding  the  legitimacy  of 
the  means  they  employ.  For  example,  Protestant  con- 
troversialists, persuaded  that  vehement  opposition  to 
Popery  is  good,  and  filled  with  the  idea  of  accomplish- 
ing its  downfall,  are  often  guilty  of  gross  misrepresen- 
tation, because  they  do  not  sufficiently  inform  themselves 
of  the  actual  tenets  and  practices  of  the  Church  of 
Rome.  In  all  controversy,  religious  and  political,  it  is 
the  same.  It  is  always  dishonest  to  circulate  reports 
that  you  have  no  means  of  authenticating  :  yet  how 
freely  are  such  reports  circulated  to  blacken  the  cha- 
racter of  an  opponent,  and  to  prove  his  opinions  to  be 
dangerous.  It  is  always  dishonest  to  condemn  opinions 
we  have  not  inquired  into,  merely  because  of  some 
fancied  consequence  which  these  opinions  carry  in 
them  :  yet  how  freely  are  opinions  condemned  by  men 
who  have  never  been  at  the  trouble  carefully  to  inquire 
into  their  truth.  They  do  not  feel  the  dishonesty  of 
their  position,  because  they  have  a  general  conscious- 
ness that  they  are  on  the  side  of  religion,  and  of  what 
has  generally  passed  for  truth.  All  keeping  back  of 
facts  which  are  supposed  to  have  an  unsettling  effect 

18 


274  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

is  but  a  repetition  of  this  sin.  There  is  no  sin  more 
hateful.  Under  the  appearance  of  serving  God,  and 
maintaining  His  cause  in  the  world,  it  insults  Him 
by  assuming  that  if  the  whole  bare,  undisguised  truth 
were  spoken,  His  cause  would  suffer. 

The  fate  of  all  such  attempts  to  manage  God's 
matters  by  keeping  things  dark,  and  misrepresenting 
fact,  is  written  for  all  who  care  to  understand  in  the 
results  of  this  scheme  of  Rebekah's  and  Jacob's.  They 
gained  nothing,  and  they  lost  a  great  deal,  by  their 
wicked  interference.  They  gained  nothing ;  for  God 
had  promised  that  the  birthright  would  be  Jacob's,  and 
would  have  given  it  him  in  some  way  redounding  to 
his  credit  and  not  to  his  shame.  And  they  lost  a  great 
deal.  The  mother  lost  her  son ;  Jacob  had  to  flee  for 
his  life,  and,  for  all  we  know,  Rebekah  never  saw  him 
more.  And  Jacob  lost  all  the  comforts  of  home,  and 
all  those  possessions  his  father  had  accumulated.  He 
had  to  flee  with  nothing  but  his  staff,  an  outcast  to 
begin  the  world  for  himself.  From  this  first  false  step 
onwards  to  his  death,  he  was  pursued  by  misfortune, 
until  his  own  verdict  on  his  life  was,  "  Few  and  evil 
have  been  the  days  of  the  years  of  my  life." 

Thus  severely  was  the  sin  of  Rebekah  and  Jacob 
punished.  It  coloured  their  whole  after-life  with  a  deep 
sombre  hue.  It  was  marked  thus,  because  it  was  a  sin 
by  all  means  to  be  avoided.  It  was  virtually  the  sin 
of  blaming  God  for  forgetting  His  promise,  or  of  accus- 
ing Him  of  being  unable  to  perform  it :  so  that  they, 
Rebekah  and  Jacob,  had,  forsooth,  to  take  God's  work 
out  of  His  hands,  and  show  Him  how  it  ought  to  be 
done.  The  announcement  of  God's  purpose,  instead  of 
enabling  them  quietly  to  wait  for  a  blessing  they  knew 
to  be  certain,  became  in  their  unrighteous  and  impatient 


Gen.  xxvii.]  JACOB'S  FRAUD.  275 

hearts  actually  an  inducement  to  sin.  Abraham  was  so 
bold  and  confident  in  his  faith,  at  least  latterly,  that 
again  and  again  he  refused  to  take  as  a  gift  from  men, 
and  on  the  most  honourable  terms,  what  God  had 
promised  to  give  him  :  his  grandson  is  so  little  sure  of 
God's  truth,  that  he  will  rather  trust  his  own  falsehood ; 
and  what  he  thinks  God  may  forget  to  give  him,  he  will 
steal  from  his  own  father.  Some  persons  have  especial 
need  to  consider  this  sin — they  are  tempted  to  play  the 
part  of  Providence,  to  intermeddle  where  they  ought  to 
refrain.  Sometimes  just  a  little  thing  is  needed  to  make 
everything  go  to  our  liking — the  keeping  back  of  one 
small  fact,  a  slight  variation  in  the  way  of  stating  the 
matter,  is  enough — things  want  just  a  little  push  in  the 
right  direction  ;  it  is  wrong  but  very  slightl}'  so.  And 
so  they  are  encouraged  to  close  for  a  moment  their  eyes 
and  put  to  their  hand. 

Of  all  the  parties  in  this  transaction  none  is  m.ore 
to  blame  than  Esau.  He  shows  now  how  selfish  and 
untruthful  the  sensual  man  really  is,  and  how  worthless 
is  the  generosity  which  is  merely  of  impulse  and  not 
bottomed  on  principle.  While  he  so  furiously  and 
bitterly  blamed  Jacob  for  supplanting  him,  it  migiit 
surely  have  occurred  to  him  that  it  was  really  he  who 
was  supplanting  Jacob.  He  had  no  right,  divine  or 
human,  to  the  inheritance.  God  had  never  said  that  His 
possession  should  go  to  the  oldest,  and  had  in  this  case 
said  the  express  opposite.  Besides,  inconstant  as  Esau 
was,  he  could  scarcely  have  forgotten  the  bargain  that 
so  pleased  him  at  the  time,  and  by  which  he  had  sold 
to  his  younger  brother  all  title  !.o  his  father's  blessings. 
Jacob  was  to  blame  for  seeking  to  win  his  own  by  craft, 
but  Esau  was  more  to  blame  for  endeavouring  furtively 
to    recover   what   he  knew  to  be  no  longer  his.     His 


276  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

bitter  cry  was  the  cry  of  a  disappointed  and  enraged 
child,  what  Hosea  calls  the  "howl  "  of  those  who  seem 
to  seek  the  Lord,  but  are  really  merely  crying  ovit,  like 
animals,  for  corn  and  wine.  Many  that  care  very  little 
for  God's  love  will  seek  His  favours  ;  and  every  wicked 
wretch  who  has  in  his  prosperity  spurned  Gods  off.-rs, 
will,  when  he  sees  how  he  has  cheated  himself,  turn 
to  God's  gifts,  though  not  to  God,  with  a  cry.  Esau 
would  now  very  gladly  have  given  a  mess  of  pottage 
for  the  blessing  that  secured  to  its  receiver  "  the  dew 
of  heaven,  the  fatness  of  the  earth,  and  plenty  of  corn 
and  wine."  Like  many  another  sinner,  he  wanted  both 
to  eat  his  cake  and  have  it.  He  wanted  to  spend  his 
youth  sowing  to  the  flesh,  and  have  the  harvest  which 
those  only  can  have  who  have  sown  to  the  spirit.  He 
wished  both  of  two  irreconcilable  things — both  the 
red  pottage  and  the  birth  right.  He  is  a  type  of  those 
who  think  very  lightly  of  spiritual  blessings  while  their 
appetites  are  strong,  but  afterwards  bitterly  complain 
that  their  whole  life  is  filled  with  the  results  of  sowing 
to  the  flesh  and  not  to  the  spirit. 

"  We  barter  life  for  pottage  ;  sell  true  bliss 

For  wealth  or  power,  for  pleasure  or  renown  ; 
Thus,  Esau-like,  our  Father's  blessing  miss, 
Then  wash  with  fruitless  tears  our  faded  crown." 

The  words  of  the  New  Testament,  in  which  it  is  said 
that  Esau  "  found  no  place  for  repentance,  though  he 
sought  it  carefully  with  tears,"  are  sometimes  m.isunder- 
stood.  They  do  not  mean  that  he  sought  what  we 
ordinarily  call  repentance,  a  change  of  mind  about  the 
value  of  the  birthright.  He  had  that ;  it  was  this  that 
made  him  weep.  What  he  sought  now  was  some 
means  of  undoing  what  he  had  dene,  of  cancelling  the 


Gen.  xxvii.]  .      JACOB'S  FRAUD.  277 

deed  of  which  he  repented.  His  experience  does  not 
tell  us  that  a  man  once  sinning  as  Esau  sinned  becomes 
a  hardened  reprobate  whom  no  good  influence  can 
impress  or  bring  to  repentance,  but  it  says  that  the  sin 
so  committed  leaves  irreparable  consequences — that  no 
man  can  live  a  youth  of  folly  and  yet  find  as  much  in 
manhood  and  maturer  years  as  if  he  had  lived  a  careful 
and  God-fearing  youth.  Esau  had  irrecoverably  lost 
that  which  he  would  now  have  given  all  he  had  to 
possess  ;  and  in  this,  I  suppose,  he  represents  half  the 
men  who  pass  through  this  world.  He  warns  us  that 
it  is  very  possible,  by  careless  yielding  to  appetite 
and  passing  whim,  to  entangle  ourselves  irrecoverably 
for  this  life,  if  not  to  weaken  and  raainri  ourselves  for 
eternity.  At  the  time,  your  act  may  seem  a  very  small 
and  secular  one,  a  mere  bargain  in  the  ordinary  course, 
a  little  transaction  such  as  one  would  enter  into  care- 
lessly after  the  day's  work  is  over,  in  the  quiet  of  a 
summer  evening  or  in  the  midst  of  the  family  circle  ; 
or  it  may  seem  so  necessary  that  3^ou  never  think  of  its 
moral  qualities,  as  little  as  you  question  whether  you 
are  justified  in  breathing ;  but  you  are  warned  that  if 
there  be  in  that  act  a  crushing  out  of  spiritual  hopes 
to  make  way  fof  the  free  enjoyment  of  the  pleasures  o( 
sense — if  there  be  a  deliberate  preference  of  the  good 
things  of  this  life  to  the  love  of  God— if,  knowingly, 
you  make  light  of  spiritual  blessings,  and  count  them 
unreal  when  weighed  against  obvious  worldly  advan- 
tages— then  the  consequences  of  that  act  will  in  this 
life  bring  to  you  great  discomfort  and  uneasiness,  great 
loss  and  vexation,  an  agony  of  remorse,  and  a  life-long 
repentance.  You  are  warned  of  this,  and  most  touch- 
ingly,  by  the  moving  entreaties,  the  bitter  cries  and 
tears  of  Esau. 


278  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

But  even  even  when  our  life  is  spoiled  irreparably, 
a  hope  remains  for  our  character  and  ourselves — not 
certainly  if  our  misfortunes  embitter  us,  not  if  resent- 
ment is  the  chief  result  of  our  suffering ;  but  if,  sub- 
duing resentment,  and  taking  blame  to  ourselves 
instead  of  trying  to  fix  it  on  others,  we  take  revenge 
upon  the  real  source  of  our  undoing,  and  extirpate  from 
our  own  character  the  root  of  bitterness.  Painful 
and  difficult  is  such  schooling.  It  calls  for  simplicity, 
and  humility,  and  truthfulness — qualities  not  of  frequent 
occurrence.  It  calls  for  abiding  patience  ;  for  he  who 
begins  thus  to  sow  to  the  spirit  late  in  life,  must  be 
content  with  inward  fruits,  with  peace  of  conscience, 
increase  of  righteousness  and  humility,  and  must  learn 
to  live  without  much  of  what  all  men  naturally  desire. 

While  each  member  of  Isaac's  family  has  thus  his 
own  plan,  and  is  striving  to  fulfil  his  private  intention, 
the  result  is,  that  God's  purpose  is  fulfilled.  In  the 
human  agency,  such  faith  in  God  as  existed  was  over- 
laid with  misunderstanding  and  distrust  of  God.  But 
notwithstanding  the  petty  and  mean  devices,  the  short- 
sighted slyness,  the  blundering  unbelief,  the  profane 
worldliness  of  the  human  parties  in  the  transaction,  the 
truth  and  mercy  of  God  still  find  a  way  for  themselves. 
Were  matters  left  in  our  hands,  we  should  make  ship- 
wreck even  of  the  salvation  with  which  we  are  provided. 
We  carry  into  our  dealings  with  it  the  same  selfishness, 
and  inconstancy,  and  worldliness  which  made  it  neces- 
sary :  and  had  not  God  patience  to  bear  with,  as  well 
as  mercy  to  invite  us  ;  had  He  not  wisdom  to  govern 
us  in  the  use  of  His  grace,  as  well  as  wisdom  to  con- 
trive its  first  bestowal,  we  should  perish  with  the  water 
cf  life  at  our  lips. 


XXII. 

JACOB'S  FLIGHT  AND  DREAM. 

Genesis  xxvii,  41 — xxviii. 

"  So  foolish  was  I,  and  ignorant  :  I   was  as  a  beast  before  Thee. 
Nevertheless  I  am  continually  with  Thee." — Psalm  Ixxiii.  22. 

IT  is  SO  commonly  observed  as  to  be  scarcely  worth 
again  remarking,  that  persons  who  employ  a  great 
deal  of  craft  in  the  management  of  their  affairs  are 
invariably  entrapped  in  their  own  net.  Life  is  so 
complicated,  and  every  matter  of  conduct  has  so  many 
issues,  that  no  human  brain  can  possibly  foresee  every 
contingency.  Rebekah  was  a  clever  woman,  and  quite 
competent  to  outwit  men  like  Isaac  and  Esau,  but  she 
had  in  her  scheming  neglected  to  take  account  of 
Laban,  a  man  true  brother  to  herself  in  cunning.  She 
had  calculated  on  Esau's  resentment,  and  knew  it 
would  last  only  a  few  days,  and  this  brief  period  she 
was  prepared  to  utilize  by  sending  Jacob  out  of  Esau's 
reach  to  her  own  kith  and  kin,  from  among  whom  he 
might  get  a  suitable  wife.  But  she  did  not  reckon  on 
Laban's  making  her  son  serve  fourteen  years  for  his 
wife,  nor  upon  Jacob's  falling  so  deeply  in  love  with 
Rachel  as  to  make  him  apparently  forget  his  mother. 
In  the  first  part  of  her  scheme  she  feels  herself  at 
home.  She  is  a  woman  who  knows  exactly  how  much 
of  her  mind  to  disclose,  so  as  effectually  to  lead  her 


2So  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

husband  to  adopt  her  view  and  plan.  She  did  not 
bluntly  advise  Isaac  to  send  Jacob  to  Padan-aram,  but 
she  sowed  in  his  apprehensive  mind  fears  which  she 
knew  would  make  him  send  Jacob  there  ;  she  sug- 
gested the  possibility  of  Jacob's  taking  a  wife  of  the 
daughters  of  Heth.  She  felt  sure  that  Isaac  did  not 
need  to  be  told  where  to  send  his  son  to  find  a  suitable 
wife.  So  Isaac  called  Jacob,  and  said,  Go  to  Padan- 
aram,  to  the  house  of  thy  mother's  father,  and  take 
thee  a  wife  thence.  And  he  gave  him  the  family  bless- 
ing— God  Almighty  give  thee  the  blessing  of  Abraham, 
to  thee,  and  to  thy  seed  with  thee — so  constituting  him 
his  heir,  the  representative  of  Abraham. 

The  effect  this  had  on  Esau  is  very  noticeable.  He 
sees,  as  the  narrative  tells  us,  a  great  many  things,  and 
his  dull  mind  tries  to  make  some  meaning  out  of  all 
that  is  passing  before  him.  The  historian  seems  in- 
tentionally to  satirise  Esau's  attempt  at  reasoning,  and 
the  foolish  simplicity  of  the  device  he  fell  upon.  He 
had  an  idea  that  Jacob's  obedience  in  going  to  seek 
a  wife  of  another  stock  than  he  had  connected  himself 
with  would  be  pleasing  to  his  parents ;  and  perhaps 
he  had  an  idea  that  it  would  be  possible  to  steal  a  march 
upon  Jacob  in  his  absence,  and  by  a  more  speedily 
effected  obedience  to  his  parents'  desire,  win  their  pre- 
ference, and  perhaps  move  Isaac  to  alter  his  will  and 
revers.e  the  blessing.  Though  living  in  the  chosen 
family,  he  seems  to  have  had  not  the  slightest  idea 
that  there  was  any  higher  will  than  his  father's  being 
fulfilled  in  their  doings.  He  does  not  yet  see  why  he 
himself  should  not  be  as  blessed  as  Jacob ;  he  cannot 
grasp  at  all  the  distinction  that  grace  makes  ;  cannot 
take  in  the  idea  that  God  has  chosen  a  people  to  Him- 
self, and  that  no  natural  advantage  or  force  or  endow- 


Gen.  xxvii.41— xxviii.]  JACOB'S  FLIGHT  AND  DREAM.       281 


ment  can  set  a  man  among  that  people,  but  only  God's 
choice.  Accordingly,  he  does  not  see  any  difference  be- 
tween Ishmxael's  family  and  the  chosen  family  ;  they  are 
both  sprung  from  Abraham,  both  are  naturally  the  same, 
and  the  fact  that  God  expressly  gave  His  inheritance 
past  Ishmael  is  nothing  to  Esau — an  act  of  God  has  no 
meaning  to  him.  He  merely  sees  that  he  has  not 
pleased  his  parents  as  well  as  he  might  by  his  marriage, 
and  his  easy  and  yielding  disposition  prompts  him  to 
remedy  this. 

This  is  a  fine  specimen  of  the  hazy  views  men 
have  of  what  will  bring  them  to  a  level  with  God's 
chosen.  Through  their  crass  insensibility  to  the  high 
righteousness  of  God,  there  still  does  penetrate  a  per- 
ception that  if  they  are  to  please  Him  there  are  certain 
means  to  be  used  for  doing  so.  There  are,  the}'  see, 
certain  occupations  and  ways  pursued  by  Christians, 
and  if  by  themselves  adopting  these  they  can  please 
God,  they  are  quite  willing  to  humour  Him  in  this. 
Like  Esau,  they  do  not  see  their  way  to  drop  their  old 
connections,  but  if  by  making  some  little  additions  to 
their  habits,  or  forming  som^e  new  connection,  they  can 
quiet  this  controversy  that  has  somehow  grown  up 
between  God  and  His  children, — though,  so  far  as  they 
see,  it  is  a  very  unmicaning  controversy, — they  will 
very  gladly  enter  into  any  little  arrangem^ent  for  the 
purpose.  We  will  not,  of  course,  divorce  the  world, 
will  not  dismiss  from  our  homes  and  hearts  what  God 
hates  and  means  to  destroy,  will  not  accept  God's  will 
as  our  sole  and  absolute  law,  but  we  will  so  far  meet 
God's  wishes  as  to  add  to  what  we  have  adopted 
something  that  is  almost  as  good  as  what  God  enjoins : 
we  will  make  any  little  alterations  which  will  not  quite 
upset  our  present  ways.     Much  commoner  than  hypo- 


282  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

crisy  is  this  dim-sighted,  bkmdering  stupidity  of  the 
really  profane  worldly  man,  who  thinks  he  can  take  rank 
with  men  whose  natures  God  has  changed,  by  the 
m  ere  imitation  of  some  of  their  ways  ;  who  thinks,  that 
as  he  cannot  without  great  labour,  and  without  too 
seriously  endangering  his  hold  on  the  world,  do  pre- 
cisely what  God  requires,  God  may  be  expected  to  be 
satisfied  with  a  something  like  it.  Are  we  not  aware 
of  endeavouring  at  times  to  cloak  a  sin  with  some  easy 
virtue,  to  adopt  some  new  and  apparently  good  habit, 
instead  of  destroying  the  sin  we  know  God  hates ;  or 
to  offer  to  God,  and  palm  upon  our  own  conscience,  a 
mere  imitation  of  what  God  is  pleased  with  ?  Do  you 
attend  Church,  do  you  come  and  decorously  submit 
to  a  service  ?  That  is  not  at  all  what  God  enjoins, 
though  it  is  like  it.  What  He  means  is,  that  you 
worship  Him,  which  is  a  quite  different  employment. 
Do  3'ou  render  to  God  some  outward  respect,  have  you 
adopted  some  habits  in  deference  to  Him,  do  you  even 
attempt  some  private  devotion  and  discipline  of  the 
spirit  ?  Still  what  He  requires  is  something  that  goes 
much  deeper  than  all  that ;  namely,  that  you  love  Him. 
To  conform  to  one  or  two  habits  of  godly  people  is  not 
what  is  required  of  us  ;  but  to  be  at  heart  godly. 

As  Jacob  journeyed  northwards,  he  came,  on  the 
second  or  third  evening  of  his  flight,  to  the  hills  of 
Bethel.  As  the  sun  was  sinking  he  found  himself 
toiling  up  the  rough  path  which  Abraham  may  have 
described  to  him  as  locking  like  a  great  staircase  of 
rock  and  crag  reaching  from  earth  to  sky.  Slabs  of 
rock,  piled  one  upon  another,  form  the  whole  hill-side, 
and  to  Jacob's  eye,  accustomed  to  the  rolling  pastures 
cf  Beersheba,  they  would  appear  almost  like  a  structure 
built  for  superhum.an  uses,  well  founded  in  the  valley 


Gen.xxvii.4i— xxviii.]  JACOB'S  FLIGHT  AND  DREAM.       283 

below,  and  intended  to  reach  to  unknown  heights. 
Overtaken  by  darkness  on  this  rugged  path,  he  readily 
finds  as  soft  a  bed  and  as  good  shelter  as  his  shepherd- 
habits  require,  and  with  his  head  on  a  stone  and  a 
corner  of  his  dress  thrown  over  his  face  to  preserve  him 
from  the  moon,  he  is  soon  fast  asleep.  But  in  his 
dreams  the  massive  staircase  is  still  before  his  eyes, 
and  it  is  no  longer  himself  that  is  toiling  up  it  as  it 
leads  to  an  unexplored  hill-top  above  him,  but  the 
angels  of  God  are  ascending  and  descending  upon  it, 
and  at  its  top  is  Jehovah  Himself. 

Thus  simply  does  God  meet  the  thoughts  of  Jacob, 
and  lead  him  to  the  encouragement  he  needed.  What 
was  probably  Jacob's  state  of  mind  when  he  lay  down 
on  that  hill-side  ?  In  the  first  place,  and  as  he  would 
have  said  to  any  man  he  chanced  to  meet,  he  wondered 
what  he  would  see  when  he  got  to  the  top  of  this  hill ; 
and  still  more,  as  he  may  have  said  to  Rebekah,  he 
wondered  what  reception  he  would  meet  with  from 
Laban,  and  whether  he  would  ever  again  see  his  father's 
tents.  This  vision  shows  him  that  his  path  leads  to 
God,  that  it  is  He  who  occupies  the  future;  and,  in  his 
dream,  a  voice  comes  to  him  :  "  I  am  with  thee,  and 
will  keep  thee  in  all  places  whither  thou  goest,  and  will 
bring  thee  again  into  this  land."  He  had,  no  doubt, 
wondered  much  whether  the  blessing  of  his  father  was, 
after  all,  so  valuable  a  possession,  whether  it  might  not 
have  been  wiser  to  take  a  share  with  Esau  than  to  be 
driven  out  homeless  thus.  God  has  never  spoken  to 
him  ;  he  has  heard  his  father  speak  of  assurances  com- 
ing to  him  from  God,  but  as  for  him,  through  all  the 
long  years  of  his  life  he  has  never  heard  what  he  could 
speak  of  as  a  voice  of  God.  But  this  night  these  doubts 
were  silenced — there  came  to  his  soul   an  assurance 


2S4  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

that  never  departed  from  it.  He  could  have  affirmed 
he  heard  God  saying  to  him  :  "  I  am  the  Lord  God  of 
thy  father  Abraham,  and  the  God  of  Isaac :  the  land 
whereon  thou  liest,  to  thee  will  I  give  it."  And  lastly, 
all  these  thoughts  probably  centred  in  one  deep  feeling, 
that  he  was  an  outcast,  a  fugitive  from  justice.  He 
was  glad  he  was  in  so  solitary  a  place,  he  was  glad  he 
was  so  far  from  Esau  and  from  every  human  eye  ;  and 
yet — what  desolation  of  spirit  accompanied  this  feeling: 
there  was  no  one  he  could  bid  good-night  to,  no  one 
he  could  spend  the  evening  hour  with  in  quiet  talk ;  he 
was  a  banished  man,  whatever  fine  gloss  Rebekah 
might  put  upon  it,  and  deep  down  in  his  conscience 
there  was  that  which  told  him  he  was  not  banished 
without  cause.  Might  not  God  also  forsake  him — might 
not  God  banish  him,  and  might  he  not  find  a  curse 
pursuing  him,  preventing  man  or  woman  from  ever 
again  looking  in  his  face  with  pleasure  ?  Such  fears 
are  met  by  the  vision.  This  desolate  ^pot,  unvisited 
by  sheep  or  bird,  has  become  busy  with  life,  angels 
thronging  the  ample  staircase.  Here,  where  he  thought 
himself  lonely  and  outcast,  he  finds  he  has  come  to  the 
very  gate  of  heaven.  His  fond  mother  might,  at  that 
hour,  have  been  visiting  his  silent  tent  and  shedding 
ineffectual  tears  on  his  abandoned  bed,  but  he  finds 
himself  in  the  very  house  of  God,  cared  for  by  angels. 
As  the  darkness  had  revealed  to  him  the  stars  shining 
overhead,  so  when  the  deceptive  glare  of  waking  life 
was  dulled  by  sleep,  he  saw  the  actual  realities  which 
before  were  hidden. 

No  wonder  that  a  vision  which  so  graphically  showed 
the  open  communication  between  earth  and  heaven 
should  have  deeply  impressed  itself  on  Jacob's  descend- 
ants.    What  more  effectual  consolation  could  any  poor 


Gen.  xxvii.  41— xxviii.]  JACOB'S  FLIGHT  AND  DREAM.       285 

outcast,  who  felt  he  had  spoiled  his  life,  require  than 
the  memory  of  this  staircase  reaching  from  the  pillow 
of  the  lonely  fugitive  from  justice  up  into  the  very  heart 
of  heaven  ?  How  could  any  most  desolate  soul  feel 
quite  abandoned  so  long  as  the  memory  retained  the 
vision  of  the  angels  thronging  up  and  down  with  swift 
service  to  the  needy  ?  How  could  it  be  even  in  the 
darkest  hour  believed  that  all  hope  was  gone,  and  that 
men  might  but  curse  God  and  die,  when  the  mind 
turned  to  this  bridging  of  the  interval  between  earth 
and  heaven  ? 

In  the  New  Testament  we  meet  with  an  instance  of 
the  familiarity  with  this  vision  which  true  Israelites 
enjoyed.  Our  Lord,  in  addressing  Nathanael,  makes 
use  of  it  in  a  way  that  proves  this  familiarity.  Under 
his  fig-tree,  whose  broad  leaves  were  used  in  every 
Jewish  garden  as  a  screen  from  observation,  and  whose 
branches  were  trained  down  so  as  to  form  an  open-air 
oratory,  where  secret  prayer  might  be  indulged  in  un- 
disturbed, Nathanael  had  been  declaring  to  the  Father 
his  ways,  his  weaknesses,  his  hopes.  And  scarcely 
more  astonished  was  Jacob  when  he  found  himself  the 
object  of  this  angelic  ministry  on  the  lonely  hill-side, 
than  was  Nathanael  when  he  found  how  one  eye  pene- 
trated the  leafy  screen,  and  had  read  his  thoughts  and 
wishes.  Apparently  he  had  been  encouraging  himself 
with  this  vision,  for  our  Lord,  reading  his  thoughts, 
says:  "Because  I  said  unto  thee.  When  thou  wast  under 
the  fig-tree  I  saw  thee,  believest  thou  ?  Thou  shalt 
see  greater  things  than  these — thou  shalt  see  heaven 
opened,  and  the  angels  of  God  ascending  and  descending 
upon  the  Son  of  man." 

This,  then,  is  a  vision  for  us  even  more  than  for 
Jacob.      It    has    its    fulfilment    in    the    times   after  the 


286  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

Incarnation  more  manifestly  than  in  previous  times. 
The  true  staircase  by  which  heavenly  messengers  ascend 
and  descend  is  the  Son  of  man.  It  is  He  who  really 
bridges  the  interval  between  heaven  and  earth,  God 
and  man.  In  His  person  these  two  are  united.  You 
cannot  tell  whether  Christ  is  more  Divine  or  human, 
more  God  or  man — solidly  based  on  earth,  as  this 
massive  staircase,  by  His  real  humanity,  by  His  thirty- 
three  years'  engagement  in  all  human  functions  and  all 
experiences  of  this  life,  He  is  yet  familiar  with  eternity, 
His  name  is  "  He  that  came  down  from  heaven,"  and 
if  your  eye  follows  step  by  step  to  the  heights  of  His 
person,  it  rests  at  last  on  what  you  recognise  as  Divine. 
His  love  it  is  that  is  wide  enough  to  embrace  God 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  lowest  sinner  on  the  other. 
Truly  He  is  the  way,  the  stair,  leading  from  the  lowest 
depth  of  earth  to  the  highest  height  of  heaven.  In 
Him  you  find  a  love  that  embraces  you  as  you  are,  in 
whatever  condition,  however  cast  down  and  defeated, 
however  embittered  and  polluted — a  love  that  stoops 
tenderly  to  you  and  hopefully,  and  gives  you  once  more 
a  hold  upon  holiness  and  life,  and  in  that  very  love 
unfolds  to  you  the  highest  glory  of  heaven  and  of  God. 
When  this  comes  home  to  a  man  in  the  hour  of  his 
need,  it  becomes  the  most  arousing  revelation.  He 
springs  from  the  troubled  slumber  we  call  life,  and  all 
earth  wears  a  new  glory  and  awe  to  him.  He  exclaims 
with  Jacob,  "  How  dreadful  is  this  place.  Surely  the 
Lord  is  in  this  place,  and  I  knew  it  not."  The  world 
that  had  been  so  bleak  and  empty  to  him,  is  filled  with 
a  majestic  vital  presence.  Jacob  is  no  longer  a  mere 
fugitive  from  the  results  of  his  own  sin,  a  shepherd  in 
search  of  employment,  a  man  setting  out  in  the  world 
to  try  his  fortune ;  he  is  the  partner  with  God  in  the 


Gen.xxvii.4i— xxviii.]  JACOB'S  FLIGHT  AND  DREAM.       287 

fulfilment  of  a  Divine  purpose.  And  such  is  the  change 
that  passes  on  every  man  who  believes  in  the  Incar- 
nation, who  feels  himself  to  be  connected  with  God  by 
Jesus  Christ ;  he  recognises  the  Divine  intention  to 
uplift  his  life,  and  to  fill  it  with  new  hopes  and  pur- 
poses. He  feels  that  humanity  is  consecrated  by  the 
entrance  of  the  Son  of  God  into  it :  he  feels  that  all, 
human  life  is  holy  ground  since  the  Lord  Himself  has 
passed  through  it.  Having  once  had  this  vision  of  Gcd 
and  man  united  in  Christ,  life  cannot  any  more  be  to 
him  the  poor,  dreary,  commonplace,  wretched  round  of 
secular  duties  and  short-lived  joys  and  terribly  punished 
sins  it  was  before :  but  it  truly  becomes  the  very  gate 
of  heaven ;  from  each  part  of  it  he  knows  there  is  a 
staircase  rising  to  the  presence  of  God,  and  that  out  of 
the  region  of  pure  holiness  and  justice  there  flow  to 
him  heavenly  aids,  tender  guidance,  and  encouragement. 
Do  you  think  the  idea  of  the  Incarnation  too  aerial 
and  speculative  to  carry  with  you  for  help  in  rough, 
practical  matters  ?  The  Incarnation  is  not  a  mere 
idea,  but  a  fact  as  substantial  and  solidly  rooted  in  life 
as  anything  you  have  to  do  with.  Even  the  shadow 
of  it  Jacob  saw  carried  in  it  so  much  of  what  was  real 
that  when  he  was  broad  awake  he  trusted  it  and  acted 
on  it.  It  was  not  scattered  by  the  chill  of  the  morning 
air,  nor  by  that  fixed  staring  reality  which  external 
nature  assumes  in  the  gray  dawn  as  one  object  after 
another  shows  itself  in  the  same  spot  and  form  in  which 
night  had  fallen  upon  it.  There  were  no  angels  visible 
when  he  opened  his  eyes  ;  the  staircase  was  theie,  but 
it  was  of  no  heavenly  substance,  and  if  it  had  any 
secret  to  tell,  it  coldly  and  darkly  kept  it.  There  was 
no  retreat  for  the  runaway  from  the  poor  common  facts 
of  yesterday.     The  sky  scen:ed  as  far  fiom  earth  as  it 


288  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

did  yesterday,  his  track  over  the  hill  as  lonely,  his 
brother's  wrath  as  real  ; — but  other  things  also  had 
become  real ;  and  as  he  looked  back  from  the  top  of 
the  hill  on  the  stone  he  had  set  up,  he  felt  the  words, 
"  I  am  with  thee  in  all  places  whither  thou  goest," 
graven  on  his  heart,  and  giving  him  new  courage  ;  and 
he  knew  that  every  footfall  of  his  was  making  a  Bethel, 
and  that  as  he  went  he  was  carrying  God  through  the 
world.  The  bleakest  rains  that  swept  across  the  hills 
of  Bethel  could  never  wash  out  of  his  mind  the  vision 
of  bright-winged  angels,  as  little  as  they  could  wash 
off  the  oil  or  wear  down  the  stone  he  had  set  up.  The 
brightest  glare  of  this  world's  heyday  of  real  life  could 
not  outshine  and  cause  them  to  disappear;  and  the 
vision  on  which  we  hope  is  not  one  that  vanishes  at 
cock-crow,  nor  is  He  who  connects  us  with  God  shy 
of  human  handling,  but  substantial  as  ourselves.  He 
offered  Himself  to  every  kind  of  test,  so  that  those  who 
knew  Him  for  years  could  say,  with  the  most  absolute 
confidence,  "  That  which  we  have  heard,  which  we  have 
seen  with  our  eyes,  which  we  have  looked  upon,  and 
our  hands  have  handled  of  the  Word  of  Life  .  ,  . 
declare  we  unto  you,  that  ye  also  may  have  fellowship 
with  us  :  and  truly  our  fellowship  is  with  the  Father, 
and  with  His  Son  Jesus  Christ." 

Jacob  obeyed  a  good  instinct  when  he  set  up  as  a 
monumental  stone  that  which  had  served  as  his  pillow 
while  he  dreamt  and  saw  this  inspiring  vision.  He  felt 
that,  vivid  as  the  impression  on  his  mind  then  was,  it 
would  tend  to  fade,  and  he  erected  this  stone  that  in 
after  days  he  might  have  a  witness  that  would  testify  to 
his  present  assurance.  One  great  secret  in  the  growth 
of  character  is  the  art  of  prolonging  the  quickening 
pjwer  of  right  ideas,  of  perpetuating  just  and  inspiring 


Gen.xxvii.4i— xxviii.]  JACOB'S  FLIGHT  AND  DREAM.       289 

impressions.  And  he  who  despises  the  aid  of  all 
external  helps  for  the  accomplishment  of  this  object  is 
not  likely  to  succeed.  Religion,  some  men  say,  is  an 
inward  thing :  it  does  not  consist  of  public  worship, 
ordinances,  and  so  forth,  but  it  is  a  state  of  spirit. 
Very  true ;  but  he  knows  little  of  human  nature  who 
fancies  a  state  of  spirit  can  be  maintained  without  the 
aid  of  external  reminders,  presentations  to  eye  and  ear 
of  central  religious  truths  and  facts.  We  have  all  of 
us  had  such  views  of  truth,  and  such  corresponding 
desires  and  purposes,  as  would  transform  us  were  they 
only  permanent.  But  what  a  night  has  settled  on  our 
past,  how  little  have  we  found  skill  to  prolong  the 
benefit  arising  from  particular  events  or  occasions. 
Some  parts  of  our  life,  indeed,  require  no  monument, 
there  is  nothing  there  we  would  ever  again  think  of, 
if  possible ;  but,  alas  !  these,  for  the  most  part,  have 
erected  monuments  of  their  own,  to  which,  as  with  a 
sad  fascination,  our  eyes  are  ever  turning — persons  we 
have  injured,  or  who,  somehow,  so  remind  us  of  sin, 
that  we  shrink  from  meeting  them — places  to  which 
sins  of  ours  have  attached  a  reproachful  meaning.  And 
these  natural  monuments  must  be  imitated  in  the  life  of 
grace.  By  fixed  hours  of  worship,  by  rules  and  habits 
of  devotion,  by  public  worship,  and  especially  by  the 
monumental  ordinance  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  must  we 
cherish  the  memory  of  known  truth,  and  deepen  former 
impressions. 

To  the  monument  Jacob  attached  a  vow,  so  that 
when  he  returned  to  that  spot  the  stone  might  remind 
him  of  the  dependence  on  God  he  now  felt,  of  the 
precarious  situation  he  was  in  when  this  vision  ap- 
peared, and  of  all  the  help  God  had  afterwards  given 
him.     He  seems  to  have  taken  up  the  meaning  of  that 

19 


290  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

endless  chain  of  angels  ceaselessly  coming  down  full  of 
blessing,  and  going  up  empty  of  all  but  desires,  requests, 
aspirations.  And  if  we  are  to  live  with  clean  con- 
science and  with  heart  open  to  God,  we  must  so  live 
that  the  messengers  who  bring  God's  blessings  to  us 
shall  not  have  an  evil  report  to  take  back  of  the  manner 
in  which  we  have  received  and  spent  His  bounty. 

This  whole  incident  makes  a  special  appeal  to  those 
who  are  starting  in  life.  Jacob  was  no  longer  a  young 
man,  but  he  was  unmarried,  and  he  was  going  to  seek 
employment  with  nothing  to  begin  the  world  with  but 
his  shepherd's  staff,  the  symbol  of  his  knowledge  of  a 
profession.  Many  must  see  in  him  a  very  exact  repro- 
duction of  their  own  position.  They  have  left  home, 
and  it  may  be  they  have  left  it  not  altogether  with 
pleasant  memories,  and  they  are  now  launched  on  the 
world  for  themselves,  with  nothing  but  their  staff,  their 
knowledge  of  some  business.  The  spot  they  have 
reached  may  seem  as  desolate  as  the  rock  where  Jacob 
lay,  their  prospects  as  doubtful  as  his.  For  such  an 
one  there  is  absolutely  no  security  but  that  which  is 
given  in  the  vision  of  Jacob — in  the  belief  that  God  will 
be  with  you  in  all  places,  and  that  even  now  on  that 
life  which  you  are  perhaps  already  wishing  to  seclude 
from  all  holy  influences,  the  angels  of  God  are  descend- 
ing to  bless  and  restrain  you  from  sin.  Happy  the 
man  who,  at  the  outset,  can  heartily  welcome  such 
a  connection  of  his  life  with  God  :  unhappy  he  who 
welcomes  whatever  blots  out  the  thought  of  heaven, 
and  who  separates  himself  from  all  that  reminds  him 
of  the  good  influences  that  throng  his  path.  The 
desire  of  the  young  heart  to  see  life  and  know  the 
w^orld  is  natural  and  innocent,  but  how  many  fancy  that 
in  seeing  the  lowest  and  poorest  perversions  of  life  they 


Gen.  xxvii,4i— xxviii.]  JACOB'S  FLIGHT  AXD  DREAM.        291 

see  life — how  man}'  forget  that  unless  they  keep  their 
hearts  pure  they  can  never  enter  into  the  best  and 
richest  and  most  enduring  of  the  uses  and  joys  of 
human  life.  Even  from  a  selfish  motive  and  the  mere 
desire  to  succeed  in  the  vvorld,  every  one  starting  in  life 
vi'ould  do  well  to  consider  whether  he  really  has  Jacob's 
blessing  and  is  making  his  vow.  And  certainly  every 
one  who  has  any  honour,  who  is  governed  by  any  of 
those  sentiments  that  lead  men  to  noble  and  worthy 
actions,  will  frankly  meet  God's  offers  and  joyful'y 
accept  a  heavenly  guidance  and  a  permanent  connection 
with  God. 

Before  we  dismiss  this  vision,  it  may  be  well  to  look 
at  one  instance  of  its  fulfilment,  that  we  may  understand 
the  manner  in  which  God  fulfils  His  promises.  Jacob's 
experience  in  Haran  was  not  so  brilliant  and  unexcep- 
tionable as  he  might  perhaps  expect.  He  did,  indeed, 
at  once  find  a  woman  he  could  love,  but  he  had  to 
purchase  her  with  seven  years'  toil,  which  ultimately 
became  fourteen  years.  He  did  not  grudge  this ; 
because  it  was  customary,  because  his  affections  were 
strong,  and  because  he  was  too  independent  to  send  to 
his  father  for  money  to  buy  a  wife.  But  the  bitterest 
disappointment  awaited  him.  With  the  burning 
humiliation  of  one  who  has  been  cheated  in  so  cruel 
a  way,  he  finds  himself  married  to  Leah.  He  protests, 
but  he  cannot  insist  on  his  protest,  nor  divorce  Leah  ; 
for,  in  point  of  fact,  he  is  conscious  that  he  is  only 
being  paid  in  his  own  coin,  foiled  with  his  own  weapons. 
In  this  veiled  bride  brought  in  to  him  on  false  pretences, 
he  sees  the  just  retribution  of  his  own  disguise  when 
with  the  hands  of  Esau  he  went  in  and  received  his 
father's  blessing.  His  mouth  is  shut  by  the  remem- 
brance of  his  own  past.     But  submitting  to  this  chas- 


292  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

tisement,  and  recognising  in  it  not  only  the  craft  of 
his  uncle,  but  the  stroke  of  God,  that  which  he  at  first 
thought  of  as  a  cruel  curse  became  a  blessing.  It  was 
Leah  much  more  than  Rachel  that  built  up  the  house 
of  Israel.  To  this  despised  wife  six  of  the  tribes  traced 
their  origin,  and  among  these  was  the  tribe,  of  Judah. 
Thus  he  learned  the  fruitfulness  of  God's  retribution — 
that  to  be  humbled  by  God  is  really  to  be  built  up,  and 
to  be  punished  by  Him  the  richest  blessing.  Through 
such  an  experience  are  many  persons  led  :  when  we 
would  embrace  the  fruit  of  years  of  toil  God  thrusts 
into  our  arms  something  quite  different  from  our  expec- 
tation— something  that  not  only  disappoints,  but  that  at 
first  repels  us,  reminding  us  of  acts  of  our  own  we  had 
striven  to  forget.  Is  it  with  resentment  you  still  look 
back  on  some  such  experience,  when  the  reward  of 
years  of  toil  evaded  your  grasp,  and  you  found  your- 
self bound  to  what  you  would  not  have  worked  a  day 
to  obtain  ? — do  you  find  yourself  disheartened  and  dis- 
couraged by  the  way  in  which  you  seem  regularly  to 
miss  the  fruit  of  your  labour  ?  If  so,  no  doubt  it  were 
useless  to  assure  you  that  the  disappointment  may  be 
more  fruitful  than  the  hope  fulfilled,  but  it  can  scarcely 
be  useless  to  ask  you  to  consider  whether  it  is  not  the 
fact  that  in  Jacob's  case  what  was  thrust  upon  him  was 
more  fruitful  than  what  he  strove  to  win. 


XXIII. 

I  AC  OB    AT  PENIEL. 

Genesis  xxxii. 

"  Humble  yourselves  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  and  He  shall  lift  you 
up." — James  iv.  lo. 

JACOB  had  a  double  reason  for  wishing  to  leave 
Padan-aram.  He  believed  in  the  promise  of  God 
to  give  him  Canaan  ;  and  he  saw  that  Laban  was  a 
man  with  whom  he  could  never  be  on  a  thoroughly 
good  understanding.  He  saw  plainly  that  Laban  was 
resolved  to  make  what  he  could  out  of  his  skill  at  as 
cheap  a  rate  as  possible — the  characteristic  of  a  selfish, 
greedy,  ungrateful,  and  therefore,  in  the  end,  ill-served 
master.  Laban  and  Esau  were  the  two  men  who  had 
hitherto  chiefly  influenced  Jacob's  life.  But  they  were 
very  different  in  character.  Esau  could  never  see  that 
there  was  any  important  difference  between  himself  and 
Jacob — except  that  his  brother  was  trickier.  Esau  was 
the  type  of  those  who  honestly  think  that  there  is  not 
much  in  religion,  and  that  saints  are  but  white-washed 
sinners,  Laban,  on  the  A>ntrary,  is  almost  super- 
stitiously  impressed  by  the  distinction  between  God's 
people  and  others.  But  the  chief  practical  issue  of  this 
impression  is,  not  that  he  seeks  God's  friendship  for 
himself,  but  that  he  tries  to  make  a  profitable  use  of 
God's  friends.     He  seeks  to  get  God's  blessing,  as  it 


294  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

were,  at  second-hand.  If  men  could  be  related  to  God 
indirectly,  as  if  in  law  and  not  by  blood,  that  would 
suit  Laban.  If  God  would  admit  men  to  his  inheritance 
on  any  other  terms  than  being  sons  in  the  direct  line, 
if  there  were  some  relationship  once  removed,  a  kind 
of  sons-in-law,  so  that  mere  connection  with  the  godly, 
though  not  with  God,  would  win  His  blessing,  this 
would  suit  Laban. 

Laban  is  the  man  who  appreciates  the  social  value 
of  virtue,  truthfulness,  fidelity,  temperance,  godliness, 
but  wishes  to  enjoy  their  fruits  without  the  pain  of 
cultivating  the  qualities  themselves.  He  is  scrupulous 
as  to  the  character  of  those  he  takes  into  his  employ- 
ment, and  seeks  to  connect  himself  in  business  with 
good  men.  In  his  domestic  life,  he  acts  on  the  idea 
which  his  experience  has  suggested  to  him,  that  persons 
really  godly  will  make  his  home  more  peaceful,  better 
regulated,  safer  than  otherwise  it  might  be.  If  he  holds 
a  position  of  authority,  he  knows  how  to  make  use,  for 
the  preservation  of  order  and  for  the  promotion  of  his 
own  ends,  of  the  voluntary  efforts  of  Christian  societies, 
of  the  trustworthiness  of  Christian  officials,  and  of  the 
support  of  the  Christian  community.  But  with  all  this 
recognition  of  the  reality  and  influence  of  godliness, 
he  never  for  one  moment  entertains  the  idea  of  himself 
becoming  a  godly  man.  In  all  ages  there  are  Labans, 
who  clearly  recognise  the  utility  and  worth  of  a  con- 
nection with  God,  who  have  been  much  mixed  up  with 
persons  in  whom  that  worth  was  very  conspicuous, 
and  who  yet,  at  the  last,  "  depart  and  return  unto  their 
place,"  like  Jacob's  father-in-law,  without  having  them- 
selves entered  into  any  affectionate  relations  with  God. 

From  Laban,  then,  Jacob  was  resolved  to  escape. 
And  though  to  escape  with  large  droves  of  slow-moving 


Gen.  xxxii.]  JACOB  AT  PEN/EL.  295 

sheep  and  cattle,  as  well  as  with  many  women  and 
children,  seemed  hopeless,  the  cleverness  of  Jacob  did 
not  fail  him  here.  He  did  not  get  beyond  reach  of 
pursuit ;  he  could  never  have  expected  to  do  so.  But 
he  stole  away  to  such  a  distance  from  Haran  as  made 
it  much  easier  for  him  to  come  to  terms  with  Laban, 
and  much  more  difficult  for  Laban  to  try  any  further 
device  for  detaining  him. 

But,  delivered  as  he  was  from  Laban,  he  had  an 
even  more  formidable  person  to  deal  with.  As  soon  as 
Laban's  company  disappear  on  the  northern  horizon, 
Jacob  sends  messengers  south  to  sound  Esau.  His 
message  is  so  contrived  as  to  beget  the  idea  in  Esau's 
mind  that  his  younger  brother  is  a  person  of  some 
importance,  and  yet  is  prepared  to  show  greater 
deference  to  himself  than  formerly.  But  the  answer 
brought  back  by  the  messengers  is  the  curt  and  haughty 
despatch  of  the  man  of  war  to  the  man  of  peace.  No 
notice  is  taken  of  Jacob's  vaunted  wealth.  No  proposal 
of  terms  as  if  Esau  had  an  equal  to  deal  with,  is 
carried  back.  There  is  only  the  startling  announcement : 
"  Esau  Cometh  to  meet  thee,  and  four  hundred  men 
with  him."  Jacob  at  once  recognises  the  significance 
of  this  armed  advance  on  Esau's  part.  Esau  has  not 
forgotten  the  wrong  he  suffered  at  Jacob's  hands,  and 
he  means  to  show  him  that  he  is  entirely  in  his  power. 

Therefore  was  Jacob  "  greatly  afraid  and  distressed." 
The  joy  with  which,  a  few  days  ago,  he  had  greeted 
the  host  of  God,  was  quite  overcast  by  the  tidings 
brought  him  regarding  the  host  of  Esau.  Things 
heavenly  do  always  look  so  like  a  mere  show ;  visits 
of  angels  seem  so  delusive  and  fleeting ;  the  exhibition 
of  the  powers  of  heaven  seems  so  often  but  as  a  tourna- 
ment painted  on  the  sky,  and  so  unavailable  for  the 


296  THE  EOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

stern  encounters  that  await  us  on  earth,  that  one  seems, 
even  after  the  most  impressive  of  such  displa3's,  to  be 
left  to  fight  on  alone.  No  wonder  Jacob  is  disturbed. 
His  wives  and  dependants  gather  round  him  in  dismay  ; 
the  children,  catching  the  infectious  panic,  cower  with 
cries  and  weeping  about  their  mothers ;  the  whole 
camp  is  rudely  shaken  out  of  its  brief  truce  by  the  news 
of  this  rough  Esau,  whose  impetuosity  and  warlike 
ways  they  had  all  heard  of  and  were  now  to  experience. 
The  accounts  of  the  messengers  would  no  doubt  grow 
in  alarming  descriptive  detail  as  they  saw  how  much 
importance  was  attached  to  their  words.  Their 
accounts  would  also  be  exaggerated  by  their  own  un- 
warlike  nature,  and  by  the  indistinctness  with  which 
they  had  made  out  the  temper  of  Esau's  followers,  and 
the  novelty  of  the  equipments  of  war  they  had  seen  in 
his  camp.  Could  we  have  been  surprised  had  Jacob 
turned  and  fled  when  thus  he  was  made  to  picture  the 
troops  of  Esau  sweeping  from  his  grasp  all  he  had 
so  laboriously  earned,  and  snatching  the  promised  in- 
heritance from  him  when  in  the  very  act  of  entering 
on  possession  ?  But  though  in  fancy  he  already  hears 
their  rude  shouts  of  triumph  as  they  fall  upon  his 
defenceless  band,  and  already  sees  the  merciless  horde 
dividing  the  spoil  with  shouts  of  derision  and  coarse 
triumph,  and  though  all  around  him  are  clamouring  to 
be  led  into  a  safe  retreat,  Jacob  sees  stretched  before 
him  the  land  that  is  his,  and  resolves  that,  by  God's 
help,  he  shall  win  it.  What  he  does  is  not  the  act  of 
a  man  rendered  incompetent  through  fear,  but  of  one 
who  has  recovered  from  the  first  shock  of  alarm  and 
has  all  his  wits  about  him.  He  disposes  his  household 
and  followers  in  two  companies,  so  that  each  might 
advance  with  the  hope  that  it  might  be  the  one  which 


Gen.  xxxiL]  JACOB  AT  PENIEL.  297 

should 'not  meet  Esau;  and  having  done  all  that  his 
circumstances  permit,  he  commends  himself  to  God 
in  prayer. 

After  Jacob  had  pra3'ed  to  God,  a  happy  thought 
strikes  him,  which  he  at  once  puts  in  execution. 
Anticipating  the  experience  of  Solomon,  that  "  a 
brother  offended  is  harder  to  be  won  than  a  strong 
city,"  he,  in  the  style  of  a  skilled  tactician,  lays  siege 
to  Esau's  wrath,  and  directs  against  it  train  after  train 
of  gifts,  which,  like  successive  battalions  pouring  into  a 
breach,  might  at  length  quite  win  his  brother.  This 
disposition  of  his  peaceful  battering  trains  having 
occupied  him  till  sunset,  he  retires  to  the  short  rest  of 
a  general  on  the  eve  of  battle.  As  soon  as  he  judges 
that  the  weaker  members  of  the  camp  are  refreshed 
enough  to  begin  their  eventful  march,  he  rises  and 
goes  from  tent  to  tent  awaking  the  sleepers,  and 
quickly  forming  them  into  their  usual  line  of  march, 
sends  them  over  the  brook  in  the  darkness,  and 
himself  is  left  alone,  not  with  the  depression  of  a  man 
who  waits  for  the  inevitable,  but  with  the  high  spirits 
of  intense  activity,  and  with  the  return  of  the  old 
complacent  confidence  of  his  own  superiority  to  his 
powerful  but  sluggish-minded  brother — a  confidence 
regained  now  by  the  certainty  he  felt,  at  least  for  the 
time,  that  Esau's  rage  could  not  blaze  through  all  the 
relays  of  gifts  he  had  sent  forward.  Having  in  this 
spirit  seen  all  his  camp  across  the  brook,  he  himself 
pauses  for  a  moment,  and  looks  with  interest  at  the 
stream  before  him,  and  at  the  promised  land  on  its 
southern  bank.  This  stream,  too,  has  an  interest 
for  him  as  bearing  a  name  like  his  own — a  nam.e 
that  signifies  the  "  struggler,"  and  was  given  to 
the  mountain  torrent  from  the  pain  ar.d  difficulty  with 


298  THE.BOOK   OF  GENESIS, 

which  it  seemed  to  find  its  way  through  tht  hills. 
Sitting  on  the  bank  of  the  stream,  he  sees  gleaming 
through  the  darkness  the  foam  that  it  churned  as 
it  writhed  through  the  obstructing  rocks,  or  heard 
through  the  night  the  roar  of  its  torrent  as  it  leapt 
downwards,  tortuously  finding  its  way  towards  Jordan  ; 
and  Jacob  says,  So  will  I,  opposed  though  I  be,  win 
my  way,  by  the  circuitous  routes  of  craft  or  by  the 
impetuous  rush  of  courage,  into  the  land  whither  that 
stream  is  going.  With  compressed  lips,  and  step  as 
firm  as  when,  twenty  years  before,  he  left  the  land,  he 
rises  to  cross  the  brook  and  enter  the  land— he  rises, 
and  is  seized  in  a  grasp  that  he  at  once  owns  as 
formidable.  But  surely  this  silent  close,  as  of  two 
combatants  who  at  once  recognise  one  another's 
strength,  this  protracted  strife,  does  not  look  like  the 
act  of  a  depressed  man,  but  of  one  whose  energies 
have  been  strung  to  the  highest  pitch,  and  who  would 
have  borne  down  the  champion  of  Esau's  host  had  he 
at  that  hour  opposed  his  entrance  into  the  land  which 
Jacob  claimed  as  his  own,  and  into  which,  as  his 
glove,  pledging  himself  to  follow,  he  had  thrown  all 
that  was  dear  to  him  in  the  world.  It  was  no 
common  wrestler  that  would  have  been  safe  to  meet 
him  in  that  mood. 

Why,  then,  was  Jacob  thus  mysteriously  held  back 
while  his  household  were  quietly  moving  forward 
in  the  darkness  ?  What  is  the  meaning,  purpose,  and 
use  of  this  opposition  to  his  entrance  ?  These  are 
obvious  from  the  state  of  mind  Jacob  was  in.  He  was 
going  forward  to  meet  Esau  under  the  impression  that 
there  was  no  other  reason  why  he  should  not  inherit 
the  land  but  only  his  wrath,  and  pretty  confident  that 
by  his  superior  talent,  his  mother-wit,  he  could  make 


Gen.  xxxii.]  JACOB  AT  FENIEL,  299 

a  tool  of  this  stupid,  generous  brother  of  his.  And 
the  danger  was,  that  if  Jacob's  device  had  succeeded, 
he  would  have  been  confirmed  in  these  impressions, 
and  have  believed  that  he  had  won  the  land  from 
Esau,  with  God's  help  certainly,  but  still  by  his  own 
indomitable  pertinacity  of  purpose  and  skill  in  dealing 
with  men.  Now,  this  was  not  the  state  of  the  case  at 
all.  Jacob  had,  by  his  own  deceit,  become  an  exile 
from  the  land,  had  been,  in  fact,  banished  for  fraud  ; 
and  though  God  had  confirmed  to  him  the  covenant, 
and  promised  to  him  the  land,  yet  Jacob  had  apparently 
never  come  to  any  such  thorough  sense  of  his  sin 
and  entire  incompetency  to  win  the  birth-right  for 
himself,  as  would  have  made  it  possible  for  him  to 
receive  simply  as  God's  gift  this  land  which  as  God's 
gift  was  alone  valuable.  Jacob  does  not  yet  seem  to 
have  taken  up  the  difference  between  inheriting  a  thing 
as  God's  gift,  and  inheriting  it  as  the  meed  of  his  own 
prowess.  To  such  a  man  God  cannot  give  the  land  ; 
Jacob  cannot  receive  it.  He  is  thinking  only  of 
winning  it,  which  is  not  at  all  what  God  means,  and 
which  would,  in  fact,  have  annulled  all  the  covenant, 
and  lowered  Jacob  and  his  people  to  the  level  simply  of 
other  nations  who  had  to  win  and  keep  their  territories 
at  their  risk,  and  not  as  the  blessed  of  God.  If  Jacob 
then  is  to  get  the  land,  he  must  take  it  as  a  gift,  which 
he  is  not  prepared  to  do.  During  the  last  twenty 
years  he  has  got  many  a  lesson  which  might  have 
taught  him  to  distrust  his  own  management,  and  he 
had,  to  a  certain  extent,  acknowledged  God ;  but  his 
Jacob-nature,  his  subtle,  scheming  nature,  was  not  so 
easily  made  to  stand  erect,  and  still  he  is  for  wriggling 
himself  into  the  promised  land.  He  is  coming  back  to 
the   land  under  the  impression  that  God  needs  to  be 


300  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

managed,  that  even  though  we  have  His  promises  it 
requires  dexterity  to  get  them  fulfilled,  that  a  man  will 
get  into  the  inheritance  all  the  readier  for  knowing 
what  to  veil  from  God  and  what  to  exhibit,  when  to 
cleave  to  His  word  with  great  profession  of  most 
humble  and  absolute  reliance  on  Him,  and  when  to 
take  matters  into  one's  own  hand.  Jacob,  in  short, 
was  about  to  enter  the  land  as  Jacob,  the  supplanter, 
and  that  would  never  do  ;  he  was  going  to  win  the 
land  from  Esau  by  guile,  or  as  he  might ;  and  not  to 
receive  it  from  God.  And,  therefore,  just  as  he  is 
going  to  step  into  it,  there  lays  hold  of  him,  not  an 
armed  emissary  of  his  brother,  but  a  far  more  formid- 
able antagonist — if  Jacob  will  win  the  land,  if  it  is  to 
be  a  mere  trial  of  skill,  a  wrestling  match,  it  must  at 
least  be  with  the  right  person.  Jacob  is  met  with  his 
own  weapons.  He  has  not  chosen  war,  so  no  armed 
opposition  is  made ;  but  with  the  naked  force  of  his 
own  nature,  he  is  prepared  for  any  man  who  will  hold 
the  land  against  him  ;  with  such  tenacity,  tough- 
ness, quick  presence  of  mind,  elasticity,  as  nature  has 
given  him,  he  is  confident  he  can  win  and  hold  his 
own.  So  the  real  proprietor  of  the  land  strips  himself 
for  the  contest,  and  lets  him  feel,  by  the  first  hold 
he  takes  of  him,  that  if  the  question  be  one  of  mere 
strength  he  shall  never  enter  the  land. 

This  wrestling  therefore  was  by  no  means  actually 
or  symbolically  prayer.  Jacob  was  not  aggressive,  nor 
did  he  stay  behind  his  company  to  spend  the  night  in 
praying  for  them.  It  was  God  who  came  and  laid  hold 
on  Jacob  to  prevent  him  from  entering  the  land  in  the 
temper  he  was  in,  and  as  Jacob.  He  was  to  be  taught 
that  it  was  not  only  Esau's  appeased  wrath,  or  his  own 
skilful  smoothing  down  of  his  brother's  ruffled  temper, 


Gen.  xxxii.]  JACOB  AT  TENIEL.  301 

that  gave  him  entrance  ;  but  that  a  nameless  Being, 
Who  came  out  upon  him  from  the  darkness,  guarded 
the  land,  and  that  by  His  pa;jsport  only  could  he  find 
entrance.  And  henceforth,  as  to  every  reader  of  this 
history  so  much  m.ore  to  Jacob's  self,  the  meeting  with 
Esau  and  the  overcoming  of  his  opposition  were  quite 
secondary  to  and  eclipsed  by  his  meeting  and  prevail- 
ing with  this  unknown  combr.tant. 

This  struggle  had,  therefore,  immense  significance 
for  the  history  of  Jacob.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  concrete 
representation  of  the  attitude  he  had  maintained  to- 
wards God  throughout  his  previous  history ;  and  it 
constitutes  the  turning  point  at  which  he  assumes  a 
new  and  satisfactory  attitude.  Year  after  year  Jacob 
had  still  retained  confidence  in  himself;  he  had  never 
been  thoroughly  humbled,  but  had  always  felt  himself 
able  to  regain  the  land  he  had  lost  by  his  sin.  And 
in  this  struggle  he  shows  this  same  determination 
and  self-confidence.  He  wrestles  on  indomitably.  As 
Kurtz,  whom  I  follow  in  his  interpretation  of  this 
incident,  says,  "All  along  Ja:ob's  life  had  been  the 
struggle  of  a  clever  and  strong,  a  pertinacious  and 
enduring,  a  self-confident  and  self-sufficient  person,  who 
was  sure  of  the  result  only  wlien  he  helped  himself — 
a  contest  with  God,  who  wished  to  break  his  strength 
and  wisdom,  in  order  to  bestov/  upon  him  real  strength 
in  divine  weakness,  and  real  wisdom  in  divine  folly." 
All  this  self-confidence  culminates  now,  and  in  one 
final  and  sensible  struggle,  his  Jacob-nature,  his  natural 
propensity  to  wrest  what  he  desires  and  win  what  he 
aims  at,  from  the  most  unwilling  opponent,  does  its 
very  utmost  and  does  it  in  vain.  His  steady  straining, 
his  dexterous  feints,  his  quick  gusts  of  vehement 
assault,  make   no   impression   on   this  combatant    and 


302  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

move  him  not  one  foot  off  his  ground.  Time  after  time 
his  crafty  nature  puts  out  all  its  various  resources,  now 
letting  his  grasp  relax  and  feigning  defeat,  and  then 
with  gathered  strength  hurling  himself  on  the  stranger, 
but  all  in  vain.  What  Jacob  had  often  surmised  during 
the  last  twenty  years,  what  had  flashed  through  him 
like  a  sudden  gleam  of  light  when  he  found  himself 
married  to  Leah,  that  he  was  in  the  hands  of  one 
against  whom  it  is  quite  useless  to  struggle,  he  now 
again  begins  to  suspect.  And  as  the  first  faint  dawn 
appears,  and  he  begins  dimly  to  make  out  the  face,  the 
quiet  breathing  of  which  he  had  felt  on  his  own  during 
the  contest,  the  man  with  whom  he  wrestles  touches 
the  strongest  sinew  in  Jacob's  body,  and  the  muscle  on 
which  the  wrestler  most  depends  shrivels  at  the  touch 
and  reveals  to  the  falling  Jacob  how  utterly  futile 
had  been  all  his  skill  and  obstinacy,  and  how  quickly 
the  stranger  might  have  thrown  and  mastered  him. 

All  in  a  moment,  as  he  falls,  Jacob  sees  how  it  is 
with  him,  and  Who  it  is  that  has  met  him  thus.  As 
the  hard,  stiff,  corded  muscle  shrivelled,  so  shrivelled 
his  obdurate,  persistent  self-confidence.  And  as  he 
is  thrown,  yet  cleaves  with  the  natural  tenacity  of  a 
wrestler  to  his  conqueror ;  so,  utterly  humbled  before 
this  Mighty  One  whom  now  he  recognises  and  owns, 
he  yet  cleaves  to  Him  and  entreats  His  blessing.  It  is 
at  this  touch,  which  discovers  the  Almighty  power  of 
Him  with  whom  he  has  been  contending,  that  the  whole 
nature  of  Jacob  goes  down  before  God.  He  sees  how 
foolish  and  vain  has  been  his  obstinate  persistence  in 
striving  to  trick  God  out  of  His  blessing,  or  wrest  it 
from  Him,  and  now  he  owns  his  utter  incapacity  to 
advance  one  step  in  this  way,  he  admits  to  himself  that 
he  is  stopped,  weakened  in  the  way,  thrown   on   his 


Gen.  xxxii.]  JACOB  AT  PENIEL.  303. 

back,  and  can  effect  nothing,  simply  nothing,  by  Vvhat 
he  thought  would  effect  all ;  and,  therefore,  he  passes 
from  wrestling  to  praying,  and  with  tears,  as  Hosea 
says,  sobs  out  from  the  broken  heart  of  the  strong  man, 
"  I  will  not  let  thee  go  except  thou  bless  me."  In 
making  this  transition  from  the  boldness  and  persist- 
ence of  self-confidence  to  the  boldness  of  faith  and 
humiility,  Jacob  becomes  Israel — the  supplanter,  being 
baffled  by  his  conqueror,  rises  a  Prince.  Disarmed  of 
all  other  weapons,  he  at  last  finds  and  uses  the  weapons 
wherewith  God  is  conquered,  and  with  the  simplicity 
and  guilelessness  now  of  an  Israelite  indeed,  face  to 
face  with  God,  hanging  helpless  with  his  arms  around 
Him,  he  supplicates  the  blessing  he  could  not  win. 

Thus,  as  Abraham  had  to  become  God's  heir  in  the 
simplicity  of  humble  dependence  on  God  ;  as  Isaac  had 
to  lay  himself  on  God's  altar  with  absolute  resignation,  .-^ 
and  so  become  the  heir  of  God,  so  Jacob  enters  on 
the  inheritance  through  the  most  thorough  humbling. 
Abraham  had  to  give  up  all  possessions  and  live  on 
God's  promise  ;  Isaac  had  to  give  up  life  itself;  Jacob 
had  to  yield  his  very  self,  and  abandon  all  depend- 
ence on  his  own  ability.  The  new  name  he  receives 
signalizes  and  interprets  this  crisis  in  his  life.  He 
enters  his  land  not  as  Jacob,  but  as  Israel.  The  man 
who  crossed  the  Jabbok  was  not  the  same  as  he  who 
had  cheated  Esau  and  outwitted  Laban  and  determinedly 
striven  this  morning  with  the  angel.  He  was  Israel, 
God's  prince,  entering  on  the  land  freely  bestowed  on 
him  by  an  authority  none  could  resist ;  a  man  who  had 
learned  that  in  order  to  receive  from  God,  one  must  ask. 

Very  significant  to  Jacob  in  his  after  life  must  have 
been  the  lameness  consequent  on  this  night's  struggle. 
He,  the  wrestler,  had  to  go  halting  all  his  day^f    He 


304  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


who  had  carried  all  his  weapons  in  his  own  person, 
in  his  intelligent  watchful  eye  and  tough  right  arm,  he 
who  had  felt  sufficient  for  all  emergencies  and  a  match 
for  all  men,  had  now  to  limp  along  as  one  who  had 
been  worsted  and  baffled  and  could  not  hide  his  shame 
from  men.  So  it  sometimes  happens  that  a  man  never 
recovers  the  severe  handling  he  has  received  at  some 
turning  point  in  his  life.  Often  there  is  never  again 
the  same  elastic  step,  the  same  free  and  confident 
bearing,  the  same  apparent  power,  the  same  appearance 
to  our  fellow-men  of  completeness  in  our  life ;  but, 
instead  of  this,  there  is  a  humble  decision  which,  if  it 
does  not  walk  with  so  free  a  gait,  yet  knows  better 
what  ground  it  is  treading  and  by  what  right.  To  the 
end  some  men  bear  the  marks  of  the  heavy  stroke  by 
which  God  first  humbled  them.  It  came  in  a  sudden 
shock  that  broke  their  health,  or  in  a  disappointment 
which  nothing  nov^^  given  can  ever  quite  obliterate  the 
trace  of,  or  in  circumstances  painfully  and  permanently 
altered.  And  the  man  has  to  say  with  Jacob,  I  shall 
never  now  be  what  I  might  have  been ;  I  was  resolved 
to  have  my  own  way,  and  though  God  in  His  mercy 
did  not  suffer  me  to  destroy  myself,  yet  to  drive  me 
from  my  purpose  He  was  forced  to  use  a  violence, 
under  the  effects  of  which  I  go  halting  all  my  days, 
saved  and  whole,  yet  maimed  to  the  end  of  time.  I 
am  not  ashamed  of  the  mark,  at  least  when  I  think  of 
it  as  God's  signature  I  am  able  to  glory  in  it,  but  it 
never  fails  to  remind  me  of  a  perverse  wilfulness  I  am 
ashamed  of.  With  many  men  God  is  forced  to  such 
treatment ;  if  any  of  us  are  under  it,  God  forbid  we 
should  mistake  its  meaning  and  lie  prostrate  and 
despairing  in  the  darkness  instead  of  clinging  to  Him 
Who  has  smitten  and  will  heal  us. 


Gen.  xxxii.]  JACOB  AT  PENIEL.  305 

For  the  treatment  which  Jacob  received  at  Peniel 
must  not  be  set  aside  as  singular  or  exceptional. 
Sometimes  God  interposes  between  us  and  a  greatly- 
desired  possession  which  we  have  been  counting  upon 
as  our  right  and  as  the  fair  and  natural  consequence 
of  our  past  efforts  and  ways.  The  expectation  of  this 
possession  has  indeed  determined  our  movements  and 
shaped  our  life  for  some  time  past,  and  it  would  not 
only  be  assigned  to  us  by  men  as  fairly  ours,  but  God 
also  has  Himself  seemed  to  encourage  us  to  win  it. 
Yet  when  it  is  now  within  sight,  and  when  we  are 
rising  to  pass  the  little  stream  which  seems  alone  to 
separate  us  from  it,  we  are  arrested  by  a  strong,  an 
irresistible  hand.  The  reason  is,  that  God  wishes  us 
to  be  in  such  a  state  of  mind  that  we  shall  receive  it 
as  His  gift,  so  that  it  becomes  ours .  by  an  indefeasible 
title. 

Similarly,  when  advancing  to  a  spiritual  possession, 
such  checks  are  not  without  their  use.  Many  men 
look  with  longing  to  what  is  eternal  and  spiritual,  and 
they  resolve  to  win  this  inheritance.  And  this  resolve 
they  often  make  as  if  its  accomplishment  depended 
solely  on  their  own*  endurance.  They  leave  almost 
wholly  out  of  account  that  the  possibility  of  their 
entering  the  state  they  long  for  is  not  decided  by  their 
readiness  to  pass  through  any  ordeal,  spiritual  or 
physical,  which  may  be  required  of  them,  but  by  God's 
willingness  to  give  it.  They  act  as  if  by  taking  ad- 
vantage of  God's  promises,  and  by  passing  through 
certain  states  of  mind  and  prescribed  duties,  they  could, 
irrespective  of  God's  present  attitude  towards  them  and 
constant  love,  win  eternal  happiness.  In  the  life  of 
such  persons  there  must  therefore  come  a  time  when 
their  own  spiritual  energy  seems  all  to  collapse  in  that 

20 


3o6  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

painful,  utter  way  in  which,  when  the  body  is  exhausted, 
the  muscles  are  suddenly  found  to  be  cramped  and 
heavy  and  no  longer  responsive  to  the  w'ill.  They  are 
made  to  feel  that  a  spiritual  dislocation  has  taken  place, 
and  that  their  eagerness  to  enter  life  everlasting  no 
longer  stirs  the  active  energies  of  the  soul. 

In  that  hour  the  man  learns  the  most  valuable  truth 
he  can  learn,  that  it  is  God  Who  is  wishing  to  save 
him,  not  he  who  must  wrest  a  blessing  from  an  un- 
Vi'illing  God.  Instead  of  any  longer  looking  on  himself 
as  against  the  world,  he  takes  his  place  as  one  who 
has  the  whole  energy  of  God's  will  at  his  back,  to  give 
him  rightful  entrance  into  all  blessedness.  So  long  as 
Jacob  was  in  doubt  w^hether  it  was  not  some  kind  of 
man  that  was  opposing  him,  he  wrestled  on ;  and  our 
foolish  ways  of  dealing  with  God  terminate,  when  we 
recognise  that  He  is  not  such  an  one  as  ourselves. 
We  naturally  act  as  if  God  had  some  pleasure  in 
thwarting  us — as  if  we  could,  and  even  ought  to, 
maintain  a  kind  of  contest  with  God.  We  deal  with 
Him  as  if  He  were  opposed  to  our  best  purposes  and 
grudged  to  advance  us  in  all  good,  and  as  if  He  needed 
to  be  propitiated  by  penitence  and  cajoled  by  forced 
feelings  and  sanctimonious  demeanour.  We  act  as  if 
we  could  make  more  way  were  God  not  in  our  way,  as 
if  our  best  prospects  began  in  our  own  conception  and 
we  had  to  win  God  over  to  our  views.  If  God  is 
unwilling,  then  there  is  an  end  :  no  device  nor  force 
will  get  us  past  Him.  If  He  is  willing,  why  all  this 
unworthy  dealing  with  Him,  as  if  the  whole  idea  and 
accomplishment  of  salvation  did  not  proceed  from 
Him? 


\  ^5 


XXIV.  ^. 

JACOB'S    RETURN. 

Genesis  xxxv. 

"As  for  me,  when  I  came  from  Padan,   Rachel  died  by  me  in  the 
land  of  Caanan  in  the  way." — Gen.  xlviii.  7. 

THE  words  of  the  Wrestler  at  the  brook  Jabbok, 
"  Let  me  go,  for  the  day  breaketh,"  express  the 
truth  that  spiritual  things  will  not  submit  themselves 
to  sensible  tests.  When  we  seek  to  let  the  full  day- 
light, by  which  we  discern  other  objects,  stream  upon 
them,  they  elude  our  grasp.  When  we  fancy  we  are 
on  the  verge  of  having  our  doubts  for  ever  scattered, 
and  our  suppositions  changed  into  certainties,  the  very 
approach  of  clear  knowledge  and  demonstration  seems 
to  drive  those  sensitive  spiritual  presences  into  dark- 
ness. As  Pascal  remarked,  and  remarked  as  the 
mouth-piece  of  all  souls  that  have  earnestly  sought 
for  God,  the  world  only  gives  us  indications  of  the 
presence  of  a  God  Who  conceals  Himself.  It  is,  indeed, 
one  of  the  most  mysterious  characteristics  of  our  life 
in  this  world,  that  the  great  Existence  which  originates 
and  embraces  all  other  Beings,  should  Himself  be  so 
silent  and  concealed :  that  there  should  be  need  of 
subtle  arguments  to  prove  His  existence,  and  that  no 
argument  ever  conceived  has  been  found  sufficiently 
cogent  to  convince  all  men.     One  is  always  tempted 


3o8  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


to  say,  how  easy  to  end  all  doubt,  how  easy  for  God 
so  to  reveal  Himself  as  to  make  unbelief  impossible, 
and  give  to  all  men  the  glad  consciousness  that  they 
have  a  God. 

The  reason  of  this  "  reserve  "  of  God  must  lie  in  the 
nature  of  things.  The  greatest  forces  in  nature  are 
silent  and  unobtrusive  and  incomprehensible.  Without 
the  law  of  gravitation  the  universe  would  rush  into 
ruin,  but  who  has  ever  seen  this  force  ?  Its  effects  are 
everywhere  visible,  but  itself  is  shrouded  in  darkness 
and  cannot  be  comprehended.  So  much  more  must 
the  Infinite  Spirit  remain  unseen  and  baffling  all  com- 
prehension. "  No  man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time " 
must  ever  remain  true.  To  ask  for  God's  name,  there- 
fore, as  Jacob  did,  is  a  mistake.  For  almost  every  one 
supposes  that  when  he  knows  the  name  of  a  thing,  he 
knows  also  its  nature.  The  giving  of  a  name,  there- 
fore, tends  to  discourage  enquiry,  and  to  beget  an 
unfounded  satisfaction  as  if,  when  we  know  what 
a  thing  is  called,  we  know  what  it  is.  The  craving, 
therefore,  which  we  all  feel  in  common  with  Jacob — to 
have  all  m3^stery  swept  from  between  us  and  God,  and 
to  see  Him  face  to  face,  so  that  we  may  know  Him  as 
we  know  our  friends — is  a  craving  which  cannot  be 
satisfied.  You  cannot  ever  know  God  as  He  is.  Your 
mind  cannot  comprehend  a  Being  who  is  pure  Spirit, 
inhabiting  no  body,  present  with  you  here  but  present 
also  hundreds  of  millions  of  miles  away,  related  to 
time  and  to  space  and  to  matter  in  ways  utterly  im- 
possible for  you  to  comprehend. 

What  is  possible,  God  has  done.  He  has  made 
Himself  known  in  Christ.  We  are  assured,  on  testi- 
mony that  stands  every  kind  of  test,  that  in  Him,  if 
nowhere   eke,  we  find  God.     And  yet  even  by  Christ 


Gen.  XXXV.  JACOB'S  RETURN:  309 

this  same  law  of  reserve  if  not  concealment  was  ob- 
served. Not  only  did  He  forbid  men  and  devils  to 
proclaim  who  He  was,  but  when  men,  weary  of  their 
own  doubts  and  debatings,  impatiently  challenged  him, 
"  If  thou  be  the  Christ  tell  us  plainly,"  He  declined  to 
do  so.  For  really  men  must  grow  to  the  knowledge 
of  Him.  Even  a  human  face  cannot  be  known  by  once 
or  twice  seeing  it ;  the  practised  artist  often  misses  the 
expression  best  loved  by  the  intimate  friend,  or  by  the 
relative  whose  own  nature  interprets  to  him  the  face 
in  which  he  sees  himself  reflected.  Much  more  can 
the  child  of  God  only  attain  to  the  knowledge  of  his 
Father's  face  by  first  of  all  being  a  child  of  God,  and 
then  by  gradually  growing  up  into  His  likeness. 

But  though  God's  operation  is  in  darkness  the  results 
of  it  are  in  the  light.  '"'  As  Jacob  passed  over  Peniel, 
the  Sim  rose  upon  him,  and  he  halted  upon  his  thigh." 
As  Jacob's  company  halted  when  they  missed  him,  and 
as  many  anxious  eyes  were  turned  back  into  the  dark- 
ness, they  were  unable  still  to  see  him ;  and  even  v/hen 
the  darkness  began  to  scatter,  and  they  saw  dimly  and 
far  off  a  human  figure,  the  sharpest  eyes  among  them 
declare  it  cannot  be  Jacob,  for  the  gait  and  walk,  which 
alone  they  can  judge  by  at  that  distance  and  in  that 
light,  are  not  his.  But  when  at  last  the  first  ray  of 
sunlight  streams  on  him  from  over  the  hills  of  Gilead, 
all  doubt  is  at  an  end  ;  it  is  Jacob,  but  halting  on  his 
thigh.  And  he  himself  finds  it  is  not  a  strain  which 
the  walking  of  a  few  paces  will  ease,  nor  a  night  cramp 
which  will  pass  off,  nor  a  mere  dream  which  would 
vanish  in  broad  day,  but  a  real  permanent  lameness 
which  he  must  explain  to  his  company.  Has  he  missed 
a  step  on  the  bank  in  the  darkness,  or  stumbled  or 
slipped  on  the  slippery  stones  of  the  ford  ?     It  is  a  far 


3IO  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

more  real  thing  to  him  than  any  such  accident.  So, 
however  others  may  discredit  the  results  of  a  work  on 
the  soul  which  they  have  not  seen — however  they  may 
say  of  the  first  and  most  obvious  results,  "  This  is  but 
a  sickness  of  soul  which  the  rising  sun  will  dispel ;  a 
feigned  peculiarity  of  walk  which  will  be  forgotten  in 
the  bustle  of  the  day's  work  " — it  is  not  so,  but  every 
contact  with  real  life  makes  it  more  obvious  that  when 
God  touches  a  man  the  result  is  real.  And  as  Jacob's 
household  and  children  in  all  generations  counted  that 
sinew  which  shrank  sacred,  and  would  not  eat  of  it, 
so  surely  should  we  be  reverential  towards  God's  work 
in  the  soul  of  our  neighbour,  and  respect  even  those 
peculiarities  which  are  often  the  most  obvious  first- 
fruits  of  conversion,  and  which  make  it  difficult  for  us 
to  walk  in  the  same  comfort  with  these  persons,  and 
keep  step  with  them  as  easily  as  once  we  did.  A 
reluctance  to  live  like  other  good  people,  an  inability 
to  share  their  innocent  amusements,  a  distaste  for  the 
very  duties  of  this  life,  a  harsh  or  reserved  bearing  to- 
wards unconverted  persons,  an  awkwardness  in  speaking 
of  their  religious  experience,  as  well  as  an  awkwardness 
in  applying  it  to  the  ordinary  circumstances  of  their 
life, — these  and  many  other  of  the  results  of  God's 
work  on  the  soul  should  not  be  rudely  dealt  with,  but 
respected  ;  for  though  not  in  themselves  either  seemly 
or  beneficial,  they  are  evidence  of  God's  touch. 

After  this  contest  with  the  angel,  the  meeting  of 
Jacob  with  Esau  has  no  separate  significance.  Jacob 
succeeds  with  his  brother  because  already  he  has  pre- 
vailed with  God.  He  is  on  a  satisfactory  footing  now 
with  the  Sovereign  who  alone  can  bestow  the  land 
and  judge  betwixt  him  and  his  brother.  Jacob  can  no 
longer  suppose  that  the  chief  obstacle  to  his  advance  is 


Gen.  XXXV.]  JACOB'S  RETURy.  311 

the  resentment  of  Esau.  He  has  felt  and  submitted  to 
a  stronger  hand  than  Esau's.  Such  schcoHng  we  all 
need  ;  and  get,  if  we  will  take  it.  Like  Jacob,  we  have 
to  make  our  way  to  our  end  through  numberless  human 
interferences  and  worldly  obstacles.  Some  of  these  we 
have  to  flee  from,  as  Jacob  from  Laban ;  others  we 
must  meet  and  overcome,  as  our  Esaus.  Our  own  sin 
or  mistake  has  put  us  under  the  power  of  some  whose 
influence  is  disastrous ;  others,  though  we  are  not 
under  their  power  at  all,  yet,  consciously  or  uncon- 
sciously to  themselves,  continually  cross  our  path  and 
thwart  us,  keep  us  back  and  prevent  us  from  effecting 
what  we  desire,  and  from  shaping  things  about  us 
according  to  our  own  ideas.  And  there  will,  from  time 
to  time,  be  present  to  our  minds  obvious  ways  in  which 
we  could  defeat  the  opposition  of  these  persons,  and 
by  which  we  fancy  we  could  triumph  over  them.  And 
what  we  are  here  taught  is,  that  we  need  look  for  no 
triumph,  and  it  is  a  pity  for  us  if  w^e  win  a  triumph 
over  any  human  opposition,  however  purely  secular  and 
unchristian,  without  first  having  prevailed  with  God  in 
the  matter.  He  comes  in  between  us  and  all  men  and 
things,  and,  laying  His  hand  on  us,  arrests  us  from 
further  progress  till  we  have  to  the  very  bottom  and 
in  every  part  adjusted  the  affair  with  Him — and  then, 
standing  right  with  Him,  we  can  very  easily,  or  at  least 
we  can,  get  right  with  all  things.  And  it  should  be  a 
suggestive  and  fruitful  thought  to  the  most  of  us  that, 
in  all  cases  in  which  we  sin  against  our  brother,  God 
presents  Himself  as  the  champion  of  the  wronged  part}^ 
One  day  or  other  we  must  meet  not  the  strongest 
putting  of  all  those  cases  in  which  we  have  erred  as 
the  offended  party  could  himself  put  them,  but  we  must 
meet  them   as  put   by  the  Eternal  Advocate  of  jusLice 


312  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

and  right,  who  saw  our  spirit,  our  merely  selfish  cal- 
culating, our  base  motive,  our  impure  desire,  our  un- 
righteous deed.  Gladly  would  Jacob  have  miCt  the 
mightiest  of  Esau's  host  in  place  of  this  invincible 
opponent,  and  it  is  this  same  Mighty  One,  this  same 
watchful  guardian  of  right  Who  threw  Himself  in  Jacob's 
way,  Who  has  His  eye  on  us,  Who  has  tracked  us 
through  all  our  years,  and  Who  will  certainly  one  time 
appear  in  our  path  as  the  champion  of  every  one  we 
have  wronged,  of  every  one  whose  soul  we  have  put  in 
jeopardy,  of  every  one  to  whom  we  have  not  done  what 
God  intended  we  should  do,  of  every  one  whom  we 
have  attempted  merely  to  make  use  of;  and  in  stating 
their  case  and  showing  us  what  justice  and  duty  vv^ould 
have  required  of  us,  He  will  make  us  feel,  what  we 
cannot  feel  till  He  Himself  convinces  us,  that,  in  all 
our  dealings  with  men,  v/herein  we  have  wronged  them 
we  have  wronged  Him. 

The  narrative  now  prepares  to  leave  Jacob  and  make 
room  for  Joseph.  It  brings  him  back  to  Bethel,  thereby 
completing  the  history  of  his  triumph  over  the  diffi- 
culties with  which  his  life  had  been  so  thickly  studded. 
The  interest  and  much  of  the  significance  of  a  man's 
life  come  to  an  end  when  position  and  success  are 
achieved.  The  remaining  notices  of  Jacob's  experience 
are  of  a  sorrowful  kind  ;  he  lives  under  a  cloud  until 
at  the  close  the  sun  shines  out  again.  We  have  seen 
him  in  his  youth  making  experiments  in  life;  in  his 
prime  founding  a  family  and  winning  his  way  by  slow 
and  painful  steps  to  his  own  place  in  the  world ;  and 
now  he  enters  on  the  last  stage  of  his  life,  a  stage  in 
which  signs  of  breaking  up  appear  almost  as  soon  as 
he  attains  his  aim   and  place  in  life. 

After  all  that  had    happened    to  Jacob,   we  should 


Gen.  XXXV.]  JACOB'S  RETURN.  313 

have  expected  him  to  make  for  Bethel  as  rapidly  as  his 
unwieldy  company  could  be  moved  forwards.  But  the 
pastures  that  had  charmed  the  e3^e  of  his  grandfather 
captivated  Jacob  as  well.  He  bought  land  atShechem, 
and  appeared  willing  to  settle  there.  The  vows  which 
he  had  uttered  with  such  fervour  when  his  future  was 
precarious  are  apparently  quite  forgotten,  or  more 
probably  neglected,  now  that  danger  seems  past.  To 
go  to  Bethel  involved  the  abandonment  of  admirable 
pastures,  and  the  introduction  of  new  religious  views 
and  habits  into  his  family  life.  A  man  who  has  large 
possessions,  difficult  and  precarious  relations  to  sustain 
with  the  world,  and  a  household  unmanageable  from  iLs 
size,  and  from  the  variety  of  dispcsitions  included  in  it, 
requires  great  independence  and  determination  to  carry 
out  domestic  reform  on  religious  grounds.  Even  a 
slight  change  in  our  habits  is  often  delayed  because 
we  are  shy  of  exposing  to  observati:n  fresh  and  deep 
convictions  on  religious  subjects.  Besides,  we  forget 
our  fears  and  our  vows  when  the  time  of  hardship 
passes  away;  and  that  which,  as  young  men,  we 
considered  almost  hopeless,  we  at  length  accept  as  cur 
right,  and  omit  all  remembrance  and  gratitude.  A 
spiritual  experience  that  is  separated  from  your  present 
by  twenty  years  of  active  life,  by  a  foreign  residence, 
by  marriage,  by  the  growing  up  of  a  family  around  you, 
by  other  and  fresher  spiritual  experiences,  is  apt  to 
be  very  indistinctly  remembered.  The  obligations  ycu 
then  felt  and  owned  have  been  overlaid  and  buried  in 
the  lapse  of  years.  And  so  it  comes  that  a  low  tone  is 
introduced  into  your  life,  and  your  hemes  cease  to  be 
model  homes. 

Out  of  this  condition  Jacob  was  roughly  aw^akened. 
Sinning   by   unfaithfulness    and    softness    towards    his 


314  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

family,  he  is,  according  to  the  usual  law,  punished  by 
family  disaster  of  the  most  painful  kind.  The  conduct 
of  Simeon  and  Levi  was  apparently  due  quite  as  much 
to  family  pride  and  religious  fanaticism  as  to  brotherly 
love  or  any  high  moral  view.  In  them  first  we  see 
how  the  true  religion,  when  held  by  coarse  and  ungodly 
men,  becomes  the  root  of  all  evil.  We  see  the  first 
instance  of  that  fanaticism  which  so  often  made  the 
Jews  a  curse  rather  than  a  blessing  to  other  nations. 
Indeed,  it  is  but  an  instance  of  the  injustice,  cruelty, 
and  violence  that  at  all  times  result  where  men  suppose 
that  they  themselves  are  raised  to  quite  pecuUar 
privileges  and  to  a  position  superior  to  their  fellows, 
without  recognising  also  that  this  position  is  held  by 
the  grace  of  a  holy  God  and  for  the  good  of  their 
fellows. 

Jacob  is  now  compelled  to  make  a  virtue  of  necessity. 
He  flees  to  Bethel  to  escape  the  vengeance  of  the 
Shechemites.  To  such  serious  calamities  do  men  ex- 
pose themselves  by  arguing  with  conscience  and  by 
refusing  to  live  up  to  their  engagements.  How  can 
men  be  saved  from  living  merely  for  sheep-feeding  and 
cattle-breeding  and  trade  and  enjoyment  ?  how  can 
they  be  saved  from  gradually  expelling  from  their  cha- 
racter all  principle  and  all  high  sentiment  that  conflicts 
with  immediate  advantage  and  present  pleasure,  save 
by  such  irresistible  blows  as  here  compelled  Jacob  to 
shift  his  camp  ?  He  has  spiritual  perception  enough 
left  to  see  what  is  meant.  The  order  is  at  once  issued  : 
"  Put  away  the  strange  gods  that  are  among  3'ou,  and 
be  clean,  and  change  your  garments  :  and  let  us  arise, 
and  go  up  to  Bethel ;  and  I  will  make  there  an  altar 
unto  God,  who  answered  me  in  the  day  of  my  distress, 
and   Vv'as  with  me  in  the  way  which  I  went."     Thus 


Gen.xxxv.l  JACOB'S  RETURN.  315 

frankly  does  he  acknowledge  his  error,  and  repair,  so 
far  as  he  can,  the  evil  he  has  done.  Thus  decidedly 
does  he  press  God's  command  on  those  whom  he  had 
hitherto  encouraged  or  connived  at.  Even  from  his 
favourite  Rachel  he  takes  her  gods  and  buries  them. 
The  fierce  Simeon  and  Levi,  proud  of  the  blood  with 
which  they  had  washed  out  their  sister's  stain,  are 
ordered  to  cleanse  their  garments  and  show  some 
seemly  sorrow,  if  they  can. 

If  years  go  by  without  any  such  incident  occurring 
in  our  life  as  drives  us  to  a  recognition  of  our  moral 
laxity  and  deterioration,  and  to  a  frank  and  humble 
return  to  a  closer  walk  with  God,  we  had  need  to  strive 
to  awaken  ourselves  and  ascertain  Avhether  we  are 
living  up  to  old  vows  and  are  really  animated  by 
thoroughly  worthy  motives.  It  was  when  Jacob  came 
back  to  the  very  spot  where  he  had  lain  on  the  open 
hill-side,  and  pointed  out  to  his  wives  and  children 
the  stone  he  had  set  up  to  mark  the  spot,  that  he  felt 
humbled  as  he  cast  his  eye  over  the  flocks  and  tents 
he  now  owned.  And  if  you  can,  like  Jacob,  go  back 
to  spots  in  your  life  which  were  very  woful  and  per- 
plexed, years  even  when  all  continued  dreary,  dark, 
and  hopeless,  when  friendlessness  and  poverty,  bereave- 
ment or  disease,  laid  their  chilling,  crushing  hands 
upon  you,  times  when  you  could  not  see  what  possible 
good  there  was  for  you  in  the  world ;  and  if  now  all 
this  is  solved,  and  your  condition  is  in  the  most  striking 
contrast  to  what  you  can  remember,  it  becomes  you  to 
make  acknowledgment  to  God  such  as  you  may  have 
made  to  your  friends,  such  acknowledgment  as  makes 
it  plain  that  you  are  touched  by  His  kindness.  'I  he 
acknowledgment  Jacob  made  was  sensible  and  honest. 
He  put  away  the  gods  which  had  divided  the  -worship 


3i6  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

of  his  family.  In  our  life  there  is  probably  that  which 
constantly  tends  to  usurp  an  undue  place  in  our  regard; 
something  which  gives  us  more  pleasure  than  the 
thought  of  God,  or  from  which  we  really  expect  a  more 
palpable  benefit  than  we  expect  from  God,  and  which, 
therefore,  we  cultivate  with  far  greater  assiduity.  How 
easily,  if  we  really  wish  to  be  on  a  clear  footing  with 
God,  can  we  discover  what  things  should  be  cast 
revengefully  from  us,  buried  and  stamped  upon  and 
numbered  with  the  things  of  the  past.  Are  there  not 
in  your  life  any  objects  for  the  sake  of  which  you 
sacrifice  that  nearness  to  God,  and  that  sure  hold  of 
Him  you  once  enjoyed  ?  Are  you  not  conscious  of  any 
pursuits,  or  hopes,  or  pleasures,  or  employments  which 
practically  have  t'e  effect  of  making  you  indifferent  to 
spiritual  advancement,  and  which  make  you  shy  of 
Bethel — shy  of  all  that  sets  clear  before  you  your 
indebtedness  to  God,  and  your  own  past  vows  and 
resolves  ? 

"  But,"  continues  the  narrative,  "  but  Deborah, 
Rebekah's  nurse,  died ; "  that  is,  although  Jacob  and 
his  house  were  now  living  in  the  fear  of  God,  that  did 
not  exempt  them  from  the  ordinary  distresses  of  family 
life.  And  among  these,  one  that  falls  on  us  with  a 
chastening  and  mild  sadness  all  its  own,  occurs  when 
there  passes  from  the  family  one  of  its  oldest  members, 
and  one  who  has  by  the  delicate  tact  of  love  gained 
influence  over  all,  and  has  by  the  common  consent 
become  the  arbiter  and  mediator,  the  confidant  and 
counsellor  of  the  family.  They,  indeed,  are  the  true 
salt  of  the  earth  whose  own  peace  is  so  deep  and 
abiding,  and  whose  purity  is  so  thorough  and  energetic, 
that  into  their  ear  we  can  disburden  the  troubled  heart 
or  the  guilty  conscience,  as  the  wildest  brook  disturbs 


Gen  XXXV.]  JACOB'S  RETURN.  317 

not  and  the  most  polluted  fouls  not  the  settled  depths 
of  the  all-cleansing  ocean.  Such  must  Deborah  have 
been,  for  the  oak  under  which  she  was  buried  was 
afterwards  known  as  "  the  oak  of  weeping."  Specially 
must  Jacob  himself  have  mourned  the  death  of  her 
whose  face  was  the  oldest  in  his  remembrance,  and 
with  whom  his  mother  and  his  happy  early  days  were 
associated.  Very  dear  to  Jacob,  as  to  most  men,  were 
those  who  had  been  connected  with  ard  could  tell  him 
of  his  parents,  and  remind  him  of  his  early  years. 
Deborah,  by  treating  him  still  as  a  little  boy,  perhaps 
the  only  one  who  now  called  him  by  the  pet  name  of 
childhood,  gave  him  the  pleasantest  relief  from  the 
cares  of  manhood  and  the  obsequious  deportment  of 
the  other  members  of  his  household  towards  him.  So 
that  when  she  went  a  great  blank  was  made  to  him  : 
no  longer  was  the  wise  and  happy  old  face  seen  in  her 
tent  door  to  greet  him  of  an  evening ;  no  longer  could 
he  take  refuge  in  the  peacefulness  of  her  old  age  from 
the  troubles  of  his  lot :  she  being  gone,  a  whole 
generation  was  gone,  and  a  new  stage  of  life  was 
entered  on. 

But  a  heavier  blow,  the  heaviest  that  death  could 
inflict,  soon  fell  upon  him.  She  who  had  been  as 
God's  gift  and  smile  to  him  since  ever  he  had  left 
Bethel  at  the  first  is  taken  from  him  now  that  he  is 
restored  to  God's  house.  The  number  of  his  sons  is 
completed,  and  the  mother  is  removed.  Suddenly  and 
unexpectedly  the  blow  fell,  as  they  were  journeying 
and  fearing  no  ill.  Notwithstanding  the  confident  and 
cheering,  though  ambiguous,  assurances  of  those  about 
her,  she  had  that  clear  knowledge  of  her  own  state 
which,  without  contradicting,  simply  put  aside  such 
assurances,   and,    as    her    soul    was    departing,    feebly 


3l8  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

named  her  son  Benoni,  Son  of  my  sorrow.  She  felt 
keenly  what  was,  to  a  nature  like  hers,  the  very 
anguish  of  disappointment.  She  was  never  to  feel  the 
little  creature  stirring  in  her  arms  with  personal  human 
life,  nor  see  him  growing  up  to  manhood  as  the  son 
of  his  father's  right  hand.  It  was  this  sad  death  of 
Rachel's  which  made  her  the  typical  mother  in  Israel. 
It  was  not  an  unclouded,  merely  prosperous  life  which 
could  fitly  have  foreshadowed  the  lives  of  those  by 
whom  the  promised  seed  was  to  come ;  and  least  of 
all  of  the  virgin  to  whom  it  was  said,  "A  sword  shall 
pierce  through  thine  own  soul  also."  It  was  the  wail 
of  Rachel  that  poetical  minds  among  the  Jews  heard 
from  time  to  time  mourning  their  national  disasters — 
"  Rachel  weeping  "  for  her  children,  when  by  captivity 
they  were  separated  from  their  mother  country,  or 
when,  by  the  sword  of  Herod,  the  mothers  of  Bethlehem 
were  bereaved  of  their  babes.  -  But  it  was  also  observed 
that  that  which  brought  this  anguish  on  the  mothers 
of  Bethlehem  was  the  birth  there  of  the  last  Son  of 
Israel,  the  blossom  of  this  long-growing  plant,  suddenly 
born  after  a  long  and  barren  period,  the  son  of  Israel's 
right  hand. 

Still  another  death  is  registered  in  this  chapter.  It 
took  place  twelve  years  after  Joseph  went  into  Egypt, 
but  is  set  down  here  for  convenience.  Esau  and  Jacob 
are,  for  the  last  time,  brought  together  over  their  dead 
father — and  for  the  last  time,  as  they  see  that  family 
likeness  which  comes  out  so  strikingly  in  the  face  of 
the  dead,  do  they  feel  drawn  with  brotherly  affection 
to  greet  one  another  as  sons  of  one  father.  In  the 
dead  Isaac,  too,  they  find  an  object  of  veneration  more 
impressive  than  they  had  found  in  the  living  father  : 
the  infirmities  of  gge  are  exchanged  for  the  m3'Stery 


Gen.  XXXV.]  JACOB'S  RETURN.  319 

and  majesty  of  death  ;  the  man  has  passed  out  of  reach 
of  pit}',  of  contempt ;  the  shrill,  uncontrolled  treble  is 
no  longer  heard,  there  are  no  weak,  plaintive  move- 
ments, no  childishness ;  but  a  solemn,  august  silence, 
a  silence  that  seems  to  bid  on-lookers  be  still  and 
refrain  from  disturbing  the  first  communings  of  the 
departed  spirit  with  things  unseen. 

The  tenderness  of  these  two  brothers  towards  one 
another  and  towards  their  father  was  probably  quick- 
ened by  remorse  when  they  met  at  his  deathbed. 
They  could  not,  perhaps,  think  that  they  had  hastened 
his  end  by  causing  him  anxieties  which  age  has  not 
strength  to  throw  off;  but  they  could  not  miss  the 
reflection  that  the  life  now  closed  and  finally  sealed  up 
might  have  been  a  much  brigliter  life  had  they  acted 
the  part  of  dutiful,  loving  sons.  Scarcely  can  one  of 
our  number  pass  from  among  us  without  leaving  in  our 
minds  some  self-reproach  that  we  were  not  more  kindly 
towards  him,  and  that  now  he  is  beyond  our  kindness  ; 
that  our  opportunity  for  being  brotherly  towards  hitn 
is  for  ever  gone.  And  when  we  have  very  manifestly 
erred  in  this  respect,  perhaps  there  are  among  all  the 
stings  of  a  guilty  conscience  few  more  bitterly  piercing 
than  this.  Many  a  son  who  has  stood  unmoved  by  the 
tears  of  a  living  mother — his  mother  by  whom  he  lives, 
who  has  cherished  him  as  her  own  soul,  who  has  for- 
given and  forgiven  and  forgiven  him,  who  has  toiled  and 
prayed,  and  watched  for  him — ^though  he  has  hardened 
himself  against  her  looks  of  imploring  love  and  turned 
carelessly  from  her  entreaties  and  burst  through  all  the 
fond  cords  and  snares  by  which  she  has  sought  to  keep 
him,  has  yet  broken  down  before  the  calm,  unsolicitous, 
resting  face  of  the  dead.  Hitherto  he  has  not  listened  to 
her  pleadings,  and  now  she  pleads  no  more.     Hitherto 


320 


THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


she  has  heard  no  word  of  pure  love  from  him,  and  now 
she  hears  no  more.  Hitherto  he  has  done  nothing  for 
her  of  all  that  a  son  may  do,  and  now  there  is  nothing 
he  can  do.  All  the  goodness  of  her  life  gathers  up  and 
stands  out  at  once,  and  the  time  for  gratitude  is  past. 
He  sees  suddenly,  as  by  the  withdrawal  of  a  veil,  all 
that  that  worn  body  has  passed  through  for  him,  and 
all  the  goodness  these  features  have  expressed,  and  now 
they  can  never  light  up  with  joyful  acceptance  of  his 
love  and  duty.  Such  grief  as  this  finds  its  one  allevia- 
tion in  the  knowledge  that  we  may  follow  those  who 
have  gone  before  us  ;  that  we  may  yet  make  reparation. 
And  when  we  think  how  many  we  have  let  pass  with- 
out those  frank,  human,  kindly  offices  we  might  have 
rendered,  the  knowledge  that  we  also  shall  be  gathered 
to  our  people  comes  in  as  very  cheering  It  is  a  grate- 
ful thought  that  there  is  a  place  where  we  shall  be  able 
to  live  rightly,  where  selfishness  will  not  intrude  and 
spoil  all,  but  will  leave  us  free  to  be  to  our  neighbour 
all  that  we  ought  to  be  and  all  that  we  would  be. 


XXV. 

JOSEPH'S  DREAMS. 

Genesis  xxxvii. 

*'  Surely  the  wrath  of  man  shall  praise  thee. " — PsALM  Ixxvi.  lo. 

THE  migration  of  Israel  from  Canaan  to  Egypt  was 
a  step  of  prime  importance  in  the  history.  Great 
difficulties  surrounded  it,  and  very  extraordinary  means 
were  used  to  bring  it  about.  The  preparatory  steps 
occupied  about  twenty  years,  and  nearly  a  fourth  of 
the  Book  of  Genesis  is  devoted  to  this  period.  This 
migration  was  a  new  idea.  So  little  was  it  the  result 
of  an  accidental  dearth,  or  of  any  of  those  unforeseen 
calamities  which  cause  families  to  emigrate  from  our 
own  country,  that  God  had  forewarned  Abraham  him- 
self that  it  must  be.  But  only  when  it  was  becoming 
matter  of  actual  experience  and  of  history  did  God 
make  known  the  precise  object  to  be  accomplished  by 
it.  This  He  makes  known  to  Jacob  as  he  passes  from 
Canaan ;  and  as,  in  abandoning  the  land  he  had  so 
painfully  won,  his  heart  sinks,  he  is  sustained  by  the 
assurance,  "  Fear  not  to  go  down  into  Egypt ;  I  will 
there  make  thee  a  great  nation." 

The  meaning  of  the  step  and  the  suitableness  of  the 
time  and  of  the  place  to  which  Israel  migrated,  are 
apparent.  For  more  than  two  hundred  years  now 
had  Abraham  and  his  descendants  been  wandering  as 

21 


322  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

pilgrims,  and  as  yet  there  were  no  signs  of  God's 
promise  being  kept  to  them.  That  premise  had  been 
of  a  land  and  of  a  seed.  Great  fecundity  had  been 
promised  to  the  race ;  but  instead  of  that  there  had 
been  a  remarkable  and  perplexing  barrenness,  so  that 
after  two  centuries  one  tent  could  contain  the  whole 
male  population.  In  Jacob's  time  the  population  began 
to  increase,  but  just  in  proportion  as  this  part  of  the 
promise  showed  signs  of  fulfilment  did  the  other  part 
seem  precarious.  For,  in  proportion  to  their  increase, 
the  family  became  hostile  to  the  Canaanites,  and  how 
should  they  ever  get  past  that  critical  point  in  their 
history  at  which  they  would  be  strong  enough  to  excite 
the  suspicion,  jealousy,  and  hatred  of  the  indigenous 
tribes,  and  yet  not  strong  enough  to  defend  themselves 
against  this  enmity  ?  Their  presence  was  tolerated, 
just  as  our  countrymen  tolerated  the  presence  of  French 
refugees,  on  the  score  of  their  impotence  to  do  harm. 
They  were  placed  in  a  quite  anomalous  position ;  a 
single  family  who  had  continued  for  two  hundred  years 
in  a  land  which  they  could  only  seem  in  jest  to  call 
theirs,  dwelling  as  guests  amid  the  natives,  maintain- 
ing peculiar  forms  of  worship  and  customs.  Collision 
with  the  inhabitants  seemed  unavoidable  as  soon  as 
their  real  character  and  pretensions  oozed  out,  and  as 
soon  as  it  seemed  at  all  likely  that  they  really  proposed 
to  become  owners  and  masters  in  the  land.  And,  in 
case  of  such  collision,  what  could  be  the  result,  but 
that  which  has  ever  followed  where  a  few  score  men, 
brave  enough  to  be  cut  down  where  they  stood,  have 
been  exposed  to  mass  after  mass  of  fierce  and  blood- 
thirsty barbarians  ?  A  small  number  of  men  have 
often  made  good  their  entrance  into  lands  where  the 
inhabitants  greatly  outnumbered  them,  but  these  have 


Gen.  xxxvii.]  JOSEPH'S  DliEAMS.  323 

commonly  been  highly  disciplined  troops,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  handful  of  Spaniards  who  seized  Mexico  and 
Peru ;  or  they  have  been  backed  by  a  power  which 
could  aid  with  vast  resources,  as  when  the  Romans 
held  this  country,  or  when  the  English  lad  in  India 
left  his  pen  on  his  desk  and  headed  his  few  resolute 
countrymen,  and  held  his  own  against  unnumbered 
millions.  It  may  be  argued  that  if  even  Abraham  with 
his  own  household  swept  Canaan  clear  of  invaders,  it 
might  now  have  been  possible  for  his  grandson  to  do 
as  much  with  increased  means  at  his  disposal.  But, 
not  to  mention  that  every  man  has  not  the  native  genius 
for  command  and  military  enterprise  which  Abraham 
had,  it  must  be  taken  into  account  that  a  force  which  is 
quite  sufficient  for  a  marauding  expedition  or  a  night 
attack,  is  inadequate  for  the  exigencies  of  a  campaign 
of  several  years'  duration.  The  war  which  Jacob  must 
have  waged,  had  hostilities  been  opened,  must  have 
been  a  war  of  extermination,  and  such  a  war  must  have 
desolated  the  house  of  Israel  if  victorious,  and,  more 
probably  by  far,   would  have  quite  annihilated  it. 

It  is  to  obviate  these  dangers,  and  to  secure  that 
Israel  grow  without  let  or  hindrance,  that  Jacob's 
household  is  removed  to  a  land  where  protection  and 
seclusion  would  at  once  be  secured  to  them.  In  the 
land  of  Goshen,  secured  from  molestation  partly  by 
the  influence  of  Joseph,  but  much  more  by  the  caste- 
prejudices  of  the  Egyptians,  and  their  hatred  of  all 
foreigners,  and  shepherds  in  particular,  they  enjoyed 
such  prosperity  and  attained  sj  rapidly  the  magnitude 
of  a  nation  that  some,  forgetfu!  alike  of  the  promise  of 
God  and  of  the  natural  advanta:^es  of  Israel's  position, 
have  refused  to  credit  the  accounts  given  us  of  the 
increase  in  their  population.     In  a  land  so  roomy,  so 


324  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


fertile,  and  so  secluded  as  that  in  which  they  were  now 
settled,  they  had  every  advantage  for  making  the  tran- 
sition from  a  family  to  a  nation.  Here  they  were 
preserved  from  all  temptation  to  mingle  with  neighbours 
of  a  different  race,  and  so  lose  their  special  place  as 
a  people  called  out  by  God  to  stand  alone.  The  Egyp- 
tians would  have  scorned  the  marriages  which  the 
Canaanites  passionately  solicited.  Here  the  ver}'  con- 
tempt in  which  they  were  held  proved  to  be  their  most 
valuable  bulwark.  And  if  Christians  have  any  of  the 
wisdom  of  the  serpent,  they  will  often  find  in  the 
contempt  or  exclusiveness  of  worldly  men  a  convenient 
barrier,  preventing  them,  indeed,  from  enjo3ang  some 
privileges,  but  at  the  same  time  enabling  them,  without 
molestation,  to  pursue  their  own  v/ay.  I  believe  young 
people  especially  feel  put  about  by  the  deprivations 
which  they  have  to  suffer  in  order  to  save  their  religious 
scruples ;  they  are  shut  off  from  what  their  friends  and 
associates  enjoy,  and  they  perceive  that  they  are  not 
so  well  liked  as  they  would  be  had  they  less  desire 
to  live  by  conscience  and  by  God's  will.  They  feel 
ostracized,  banished,  frowned  upon,  laid  under  dis- 
abilities ;  but  all  this  has  its  compensations  :  it  forms 
for  them  a  kind  of  Goshen  where  they  may  w-orship 
and  increase,  it  runs  a  fence  around  them  which  keeps 
them  apart  from  much  that  tempts  and  from  much  that 
enfeebles. 

The  residence  of  Israel  in  Egypt  served  another 
important  purpose.  By  contact  with  the  most  civilised 
people  of  antiquity  they  emerged  from  the  semi- 
barbarous  condition  in  which  they  had  previously  been 
living.  Going  into  Egypt  mere  shepherds,  as  Jacob 
somewhat  plaintively  and  deprecatingly  says  to  Pharaoh ; 
not  even  possessed,  so  far  as  w^e  know,  of  the  funda- 


Gen.  xxxvii.]  JOSEPH'S  DREAMS.  325 

mental  arts  on  \yhich  civilisation  rests,  unable  to  record 
in  writing  the  re\e'ations  God  made,  or  to  read  them 
if  recorded  ;  having  the  most  rudimentary  ideas  of  law 
and  justice,  and  having  nothing  to  keep  them  together 
and  give  them  form  and  strength,  save  the  one  idea 
that  God  meant  to  confer  on  them  great  distinction  ; 
they  were  transferred  into  a  land  where  government 
had  been  so  long  established  and  law  had  come  to  be 
so  thoroughly  administered  that  life  and  property  were 
as  safe  as  among  ourselves  to-day,  where  science  had 
made  such  advances  that  even  the  weather-beaten  and 
time-stained  relics  of  it  seem  to  point  to  regions  into 
which  even  the  bold  enterprise  of  modern  investigation 
has  not  penetrated,  and  where  all  the  arts  needful  for 
life  were  in  familiar  use,  and  even  some  practised  which 
modern  times  have  as  yet  been  unable  to  recover.  To 
no  better  school  could  the  barbarous  sons  of  Bilhah 
and  Zilpah  have  been  sent ;  to  no  more  fitting  discipline 
could  the  lawless  spirits  of  Reuben,  Simeon,  and  Levi 
have  been  subjected.  In  Egypt,  where  human  life 
w^as  sacred,  where  truth  was  worshipped  as  a  deity, 
and  whei-e  law  was  invested  with  the  sanctity  which 
belonged  to  what  was  supposed  to  have  descended  from 
heaven,  they  were  brought  under  influences  similar  to 
those  which  ancient  Rome  exerted  over  conquered 
races. 

The  unwitting  pioneer  of  this  great  movement  was 
a  man  in  all  respects  fitted  to  initiate  it  happily.  In 
Joseph  we  meet  a  type  of  character  rare  in  any  race, 
and  which,  though  occasionally  reproduced  in  Jewish 
l.istory,  we  should  certainly  not  have  expected  to  meet 
with  at  so  early  a  period.  For  what  chiefly  strikes 
one  in  Joseph  is  a  combination  of  grace  and  powder, 
which  is  commonly  looked  upon  as  the  peculiar  result 


326  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

of  civilising  influences,  knowledge  of  history,  familiarity 
with  foreign  races,  and  hereditary  dignity.  In  David 
we  find  a  similar  flexibility  and  grace  of  character, 
and  a  similar  personal  superiority.  We  find  the  same 
bright  and  humorous  disposition  helping  him  to  play 
the  man  in  adverse  circumstances ;  but  w^e  miss  in 
David  Joseph's  self-control  and  incorruptible  purity, 
as  we  also  miss  something  of  his  capacity  for  difficult 
affairs  of  state.  In  Daniel  this  latter  capacity  is 
abundantly  present,  and  a  facility  equal  to  Joseph's 
in  dealing  with  foreigners,  and  there  is  also  a  certain 
grace  or  nobility  in  the  Jewish  Vizier ;  but  Joseph  had 
a  surplus  of  power  which  enabled  him  to  be  cheerful 
and  alert  in  doleful  circumstances,  which  Daniel  would 
certainly  have  borne  manfully  but  probabl}^  in  a  sterner 
and  more  passive  mood.  Joseph,  indeed,  seemed  to 
inherit  and  happily  combine  the  highest  qualities  of 
his  ancestors.  He  had  Abraham's  dignity  and  capacit}'', 
Isaac's  purity  and  power  of  self-devotion,  Jacob's  clever- 
ness and  buoyancy  and  tenacity.  From  his  mother's 
family  he  had  personal  beauty,  humour,  and  manage- 
ment. 

A  young  man  of  such  capabilities  could  net  long 
remain  insensible  to  his  own  powers  or  indifferent  to 
his  own  destiny.  Indeed,  the  conduct  of  his  father 
and  brothers  towards  him  must  have  made  him  self- 
conscious,  even  though  he  had  been  wholly  innccent 
of  introspection.  The  force  of  the  impression  he 
produced  on  his  fam.ily  may  be  measured  by  the  cir- 
cumstance that  the  princely  dress  given  him  b}'  his 
father  did  not  excite  his  brothers'  ridicule  but  their 
envy  and  hatred.  In  this  dress  there  was  a  manifest 
suitableness  to  his  peison,  and  this  excited  them  to 
a  keen  resentment  of  the  distinction.     So  tco  they  felt 


Gen.  xxxviL]  JOSEPH'S  DREAMS..  327 

that  his  dreams  were  not  the  mere  whimsicalities  of 
a  lively  fancy,  but  were  possessed  of  a  verisimilitude 
which  gave  them  importance.  In  short,  the  dress 
and  the  dreams  were  insufferably  exasperating  to  the 
brothers,  because  they  proclaimed  and  marked  in  a 
definite  way  the  feeling  of  Joseph's  superiority  which 
had  already  been  vaguely  rankling  in  their  conscious- 
ness. And  it  is  creditable  to  Joseph  that  this  superiority 
should  first  have  emerged  in  connection  with  a  point 
of  conduct.  It  was  in  moral  stature  that  the  sons  of 
Bilhah  and  Zilpah  felt  that  they  were  outgrown  by 
the  stripling  whom  they  carried  with  them  as  their 
drudge.  Neither  are  we  obliged  to  suppose  that  Joseph 
was  a  gratuitous  tale-bearer,  or  that  when  he  carried 
their  evil  report  to  his  father  he  was  actuated  by  a 
prudish,  censorious,  or  in  any  way  unworthy  spirit. 
That  he  very  well  knew  how  to  hold  his  tongue  no 
man  ever  gave  more  adequate  proof;  but  he  that 
understands  that  there  is  a  time  to  keep  silence  neces- 
sarily sees  also  that  there  is  a  time  to  speak.  And 
no  one  can  tell  what  torture  that  pure  young  soul  may 
have  endured  in  the  remote  pastures,  when  left  alone 
to  withstand  day  after  day  the  outrage  of  these  coarse 
and  unscrupulous  men.  An  elder  brother,  if  he  will, 
can  more  effectually  guard  the  innocence  of  a  younger 
brother  than  any  other  relative  can,  but  he  can  also 
inflict  a  more  exquisite  torture. 

Joseph,  then,  could  not  but  come  to  think  of  his 
future  and  of  his  destiny  in  this  family.  That  his 
father  should  make  a  pet  of  him  rather  than  of 
Benjamin,  he  would  refer  to  the  circumstance  that  he 
was  the  oldest  son  of  the  wife  of  his  choice,  of  her 
whom  first  he  had  loved,  and  who  had  no  rival  while 
he  lived.    To  so  charming  a  companion  as  Joseph  must 


328  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

alwa3^s  have  been,  Jacob  would  naturally  impart  all 
the  traditions  and  hopes  of  the  family.  In  him  he 
found  a  sympathetic  and  appreciative  listener,  who 
wiled  him  on  to  endless  narrative,  and  whose  imagina- 
tiveness quickened  his  own  hopes  and  made  the  future 
seem  grander  and  the  world  more  wide.  And  what 
Jacob  had  to  tell  could  fall  into  no  kindlier  soil  tlian 
the  opening  mind  of  Joseph.  No  hint  was  lost,  every 
promise  was  interpreted  by  some  waiting  aspiration. 
And  thus,  like  every  youth  of  capacity,  he  came  to  have 
his  day-dreams.  These  day-dreams,  though  derided  by 
those  who  cannot  see  the  C^sar  in  the  careless  trifler, 
and  though  often  awkward  and  even  offensive  in  their 
expression,  are  not  always  the  mere  discontented  crav- 
ings of  youthful  vanity,  but  are  frequently  instinctive 
gropings  towards  the  position  which  the  nature  is 
fitted  to  fill.  "  Our  wishes,"  it  has  been  said,  "  are  the 
forefeeling  of  our  capabilities  ; "  and  certainly  where 
there  is  any  special  gift  or  genius  in  a  man,  the  wish  of 
his  youth  is  predictive  of  the  attainment  of  manhood. 
Whims,  no  doubt,  there  are,  passing  phases  through 
which  natural  growth  carries  us,  flutterings  of  the 
needle  when  too  near  some  powerful  influence ;  yet 
amidst  all  variations  the  true  direction  will  be  dis- 
cernible and  ultimately  will  be  dominant.  And  it  is  a 
great  art  to  discover  what  we  are  fit  for,  so  that  we 
may  settle  down  to  our  own  work,  or  patiently  wait 
for  our  own  place,  without  enviously  striving  to  rob 
every  other  man  of  his  crown  and  so  losing  our  own. 
It  is  an  art  that  saves  us  much  fretting  and  disappoint- 
ment and  waste  of  time,  to  understand  early  in  life 
what  it  is  we  can  accomplish,  and  what  precisely  we 
mean  to  be  at ;  "  to  recognise  in  our  personal  gifts  or 
station,  in  the  circumstances  and  complications  of  our 


Gen.  xxxvii.]  JOSEPH'S  DREAMS.  3:9 

life,  in  our  relations  to  others,  or  to  the  world — the  will 
of  God  teacliing  us  what  we  are,  and  for  what  we  ought 
to  live."  How  much  of  life  often  is  gone  before  its 
possessor  sees  the  use  he  can  put  it  to,  and  ceases  to 
beat  the  air !  How  much  of  life  is  an  ill-considered  but 
passionate  striving  after  what  can  never  be  attained,  or 
a  vain  imitation  of  persons  who  have  quite  different 
talents  and  opportunities  from  ourselves,  and  who  are 
therefore  set  to  quite  another  work  than  ours. 

It  was  because  Joseph's  dreams  embodied  his  waking 
ambition  that  they  were  of  importance.  Dreams  be- 
come significant  when  they -are  the  concentrated  essence 
of  the  main  stream  of  the  waking  thoughts,  and  pictur- 
esquely exhibit  the  tendency  of  the  character.  "  In 
a  dream,"  says  Elihu,  "  in  a  vision  of  the  night,  when 
deep  sleep  falleth  upon  men,  in  slumberings  upon  the 
bed  ;  then  He  openeth  the  ears  of  men,  and  sealeth 
their  instruction,  that  He  may  withdraw  man  from  his 
purpose."  This  is  precisely  the  use  of  dreams  :  our 
tendencies,  unbridled  by  reason  and  fact,  run  on  to 
results ;  the  purposes  which  the  business  and  other 
good  influences  of  the  day  ha\e  kept  down  act  them- 
selves out  in  our  dreams,  and  we  see  the  character 
unimpeded  by  social  checks,  and  as  it  would  be  were  it 
unmodified  by  the  restraints  and  efforts  and  external 
considerations  of  our  conscious  hours.  Our  vanity,  our 
pride,  our  malice,  our  impurity,  our  deceit,  our  every 
evil  passion,  has  free  play,  and  shows  us  its  finished 
result,  and  in  so  vivid  and  true  though  caricatured 
a  form  that  we  are  startled  and  withdrawn  from  our 
purpose.  The  evil  thought  we  have  suffered  to  creep 
about  our  heart  seems  in  our  dreams  to  become  a  deed, 
and  we  wake  in  horror  and  thank  God  we  can  yet 
refrain.    Thus  the  poor  woman,  who  in  utter  destitution 


330  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

was  beginning  to  find  her  child  a  burden,  dreamt  she 
had  drowned  it,  and  woke  in  horror  at  the  fancied 
sound  of-  the  plunge — woke  to  clasp  her  little  one  to 
her  breast  with  the  thrill  of  a  grateful  affection  that 
never  again  gave  way.  So  that  while  no  man  is  so 
foolish  as  to  expect  instruction  from  every  dream  any 
more  than  from  every  thought  that  visits  his  waking 
mind,  yet  every  one  who  has  been  accumulating  some 
knowledge  of  himself  is  aware  that  he  has  drawn  a 
large  part  of  this  from  his  unconscious  hours.  As  the 
naturalist  would  know  but  a  small  part  of  the  animal 
kingdom  by  studying  the  creatures  that  show  themselves 
in  the  daylight,  so  there  are  moles  and  bats  of  the 
spirit  that  exhibit  themselves  most  freely  in  the  dark- 
ness ;  and  there  are  jungles  and  waste  places  in  the 
character  which,  if  you  look  on  them  only  in  the  sun- 
shine, may  seem  safe  and  lovely,  but  which  at  night 
show  themselves  to  be  full  of  all  loathsome  and  savage 
beasts. 

With  the  simplicity  of  a  guileless  mind,  and  with  the 
natural  proneness  of  m:mbers  of  one  family  to  tell  in 
the  morning  the  dreams  they  have  had,  Joseph  tells  to 
the  rest  what  seems  to  himself  interesting,  if  net  very 
suggestive.  Possibly  he  thought  very  little  of  his 
dream  till  he  saw  how  much  importance  his  brothers 
attached  to  it.  Possibly  there  might  be  discernible  in 
his  tone  and  look  some  mixture  of  youthful  arrogance. 
And  in  his  relation  of  the  second  dream,  there  was 
discernible  at  least  a  confidence  that  it  would  be 
realised,  which  was  peculiarly  intolerable  to  his 
brothers,  and  to  his  father  seemed  a  dangerous  symptom 
that  called  for  rebuke.  And  yet  "  his  father  observed 
the  saying ; "  as  a  parent  has  sometimes  occasion  to 
check  his  child,  and  yet,  having  done  so,  feels  that  that 


Gen.jcxxvii.]  JOSEPH  S  DREAMS.  331 

does  not  end  the  matter  ;  that  his  boy  and  he  are  in 
somewhat  different  spheres,  so  that  while  he  was 
certainly  justified  in  punishing  such  and  such  a  mani- 
festation of  his  character,  there  is  yet  something  behind 
that  he  does  not  quite  understand,  and  for  which 
possibly  punishment  may  not  be  exactly  the  suitable 
award. 

We  fall  into  Jacob's  mistake  when  we  refuse  to 
acknowledge  as  genuine  and  God-inspired  any  religious 
experience  which  we  ourselves  have  not  passed  through, 
and  which  appears  in  a  guise  that  is  not  only  unfamiliar, 
but  that  is  in  some  particulars  objectionable.  Up  to 
the  measure  of  our  own  religious  experience,  we  re- 
cognise as  genuine,  and  sympathise  with,  the  parallel 
experience  of  others  ;  but  when  they  rise  above  us  and 
get  beyond  us,  we  begin  to  speak  of  them  as  visionaries, 
enthusiasts,  dreamers.  We  content  ourselves  with 
pointing  again  and  again  to  the  blots  in  their  manner, 
and  refuse  to  read  the  future  through  the  ideas  they 
add  to  our  knowledge.  But  the  future  necessarily  lies, 
not  in  the  definite  and  finished  attainment,  but  in  the 
indefinite  and  hazy  and  dream-like  germs  that  have 
yet  growth  in  them.  The  future  is  not  with  Jacob,  the 
rebuker,  but  with  the  dreaming,  and,  possibly,  some- 
what offensive  Joseph.  It  was  certainly  a  new  element 
Joseph  introduced  into  the  experience  of  God's  people. 
He  saw,  obscurely  indeed,  but  with  sufficient  clearness 
to  make  him  thoughtful,  that  the  man  whom  God 
chooses  and  makes  a  blessing  to  others  is  so  far 
advanced  above  his  fellows  that  they  lean  upon  him 
and  pay  him  homage  as  if  he  were  in  the  place  of  God 
to  them.  He  saw  that  his  higher  powers  were  to  be 
used  for  his  brethren,  and  that  the  high  destiny  he 
smoehow  felt  to  be  his  was  to  be  won  by  doing  serivce 


332  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

SO  essential  that  his  family  would  bow  before  him  and 
give  themselves  into  his  hand.  He  saw  this,  as  every 
man  whose  love  keeps  pace  with  his  talent  sees  it,  and 
he  so  far  anticipated  the  dignity  of  Him  who,  in  the 
deepest  self-sacrifice,  assumed  a  position  and  asserted 
claims  which  enraged  His  brethren  and  made  even  His 
believing  mother  marvel.  Joseph  knew  that  the  welfare 
of  his  family  rested  not  with  the  Esau-like  good-nature 
of  Reuben,  still  less  with  the  fanatical  ferocity  of 
Simeon  and  Levi,  not  with  the  servile  patience  of  Issa- 
char,  nor  with  the  natural  force  and  dignity  of  Judah, 
but  with  some  deeper  qualities  which,  if  he  himself  did 
not  yet  possess,  he  at  least  valued  and  aspired  to. 

Whatever  Joseph  thought  of  the  path  by  which  he 
was  to  reach  the  high  dignity  which  his  dreams  fore- 
shadowed, he  was  soon  to  learn  that  the  path  was 
neither  easy  nor  short.  Each  man  thinks  that,  for 
himself  at  least,  an  exceptional  path  will  be  broken  out, 
and  that  without  difficulties  and  humiliations  he  will 
inherit  the  kingdom.  But  it  cannot  be  so.  And  as  the 
first  step  a  lad  takes  towards  the  attainment  of  his 
position  often  involves  him  in  trouble  and  covers  him 
with  confusion,  and  does  so  even  although  he  ultimately 
finds  that  it  was  the  only  path  by  which  he  could  have 
reached  his  goal ;  so,  that  which  was  really  the  first 
step  towards  Joseph's  high  destiny,  no  doubt  seemed 
to  him  most  calamitous  and  fatal.  It  certainly  did  so 
to  his  brothers,  who  thought  that  they  were  effectually 
and  for  ever  putting  an  end  to  Joseph's  pretensions. 
"Behold,  this  dreamer  cometh ;  come  now  therefore, 
and  let  us  slay  him,  and  we  shall  see  what  will  become 
of  his  dreams."  They  were,  however,  so  far  turned 
from  their  purpose  by  Reuben  as  to  put  him  in  a  pit, 
meaning    to    leave   him   to   die  ;    and,  doubtless,   they 


Gen.  xxxvii.]  JOSEPH'S  DREAMS.  333 

thought  themselves  lenient  in  doing  so.  The  less 
violent  the  death  inflicted,  the  less  of  murder  seems  to 
be  in  it ;  so  that  he  who  slowly  kills  the  body  by  only 
wounding  the  affections  often  counts  himself  no  mur- 
derer at  all,  because  he  strikes  no  blood-shedding  blow, 
and  can  deceive  himself  into  the  idea  that  it  is  the 
working  of  his  victim's  own  spirit  that  is  doing  the 
damage. 

The  tank  into  which  Joseph's  brethren  cast  him  was 
apparently  one  of  those  huge  reservoirs  excavated  by 
shepherds  in  the  East,  that  they  may  have  a  supply  of 
water  for  their  flocks  in  the  end  of  the  dry  season, 
when  the  running  waters  fail  them.  Being  so  narrow 
at  the  mouth  that  they  can  be  covered  by  a  single 
stone,  they  gradually  widen  and  form  a  large  sub- 
terranean room  ;  and  the  facility  they  thus  afford  for 
the  confinement  of  prisoners  was  from  the  first  too 
obvious  not  to  be  commonly  taken  advantage  of.  In 
such  a  place  was  Joseph  left  to  die  :  under  the  ground, 
sinking  in  mire,  his  flesh  creeping  at  the  touch  of  un- 
seen slimy  creatures,  in  darkness,  alone  ;  that  is  to  say, 
in  a  species  of  confinement  which  tames  the  most  reck- 
less and  maddens  the  best  balanced  spirits,  which 
shakes  the  nerve  of  the  calmest,  and  has  sometimes  left 
the  blankness  of  idiocy  in  masculine  understandings. 
A  few  wild  cries  that  ring  painfully  round  his  prison 
show  him  he  need  expect  no  help  from  without ;  a  few 
wild  and  desperate  beatings  round  the  shelving  walls 
of  rock  show  him  there  is  no  possibility  of  escape  ;  he 
covers  his  face,  or  casts  himself  on  the  floor  of  his 
dungeon  to  escape  within  himself,  but  only  to  find  this 
also  in  vain,  and  to  rise  and  renew  efforts  he  knows  to 
be  fruitless.  Here,  then,  is  what  has  come  of  his  fine 
dreams.     With  shame  he  now  remembers  the  beaming 


334  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

confidence  with  which  he  had  related  them ;  with 
bitterness  he  thinks  of  the  bright  hfe  above  him,  from 
which  these  few*  feet  cut  him  so  absolutely  off,  and 
of  the  quick  termination  that  has  been  put  to  all  his 
hopes. 

Into  such  tanks  do  young  persons  especially  get 
cast ;  finding  themselves  suddenly  dropped  out  of  the 
lively  scenery  and  bright  sunshine  in  which  they  have 
been  living,  down  into  roomy  graves  where  they  seem 
left  to  die  at  leisure.  They  had  conceived  a  way  of 
being  useful  in  the  world ;  they  had  found  an  aim  or  a 
hope ;  they  had,  like  Joseph,  discerned  their  place  and 
were  making  towards  it,  when  suddenly  they  seem  to 
be  thrown  out  and  are  left  to  learn  that  the  world  can 
do  very  well  without  them,  that  the  sun  and  moon  and 
the  eleven  stars  do  not  drop  from  their  courses  or 
make  wail  because  of  their  sad  condition.  High  aims 
and  commendable  purposes  are  not  so  easily  fulfilled  as 
they  fancied.  The  faculty  and  desire  in  them  to  be  of 
service  are  not  recognised.  Men  do  not  make  room 
for  them,  and  God  seems  to  disregard  the  hopes  He 
has  excited  in  them.  The  little  attempt  at  living  they 
have  made  seems  only  to  have  got  themselves  and 
others  into  trouble.  They  begin  to  think  it  a  mistake 
their  being  in  the  world  at  all ;  they  curse  the  day  of 
their  birth.  Others  are  enjoying  this  life,  and  seem  to 
be  making  something  of  it,  having  found  work  that 
suits  and  develops  them  ;  but,  for  their  own  part,  they 
cannot  get  fitted  into  life  at  any  point,  and  are  excluded 
from  the  onward  movement  of  the  world.  They  are 
again  and  again  flung  back,  until  they  fear  they  are  not 
to  see  the  fulfilment  of  any  one  bright  dream  that  has 
ever  visited  them,  and  that  they  are  never,  never  at 
all,  to  live  out  the  life  it  is  in  them  to  live,  or  find  light 


Gen.  xxxvii.]  JOSEPH'S  DREAMS.  335 

and  scope  for  maturing  those  germs  of  the  rich  human 
nature  that  they  feel  within  them. 

All  this  is  in  the  way  to  attainment.  This  or  that 
check,  this  long  burial  for  years,  does  not  come  upon 
you  merely  because  stoppage  and  hindrance  have  been 
useful  to  others,  but  because  your  advancement  lies 
through  these  experiences.  Young  persons  naturally 
feel  strongly  that  life  is  all  before  them,  that  this  life 
is,  in  the  first  place,  their  concern,  and  that  God  must 
be  proved  sufficient  for  this  life,  able  to  bring  them  to 
their  ideal.  And  the  first  lesson  they  have  to  learn  is, 
that  mere  youthful  confidence  and  energy  are  not  the 
qualities  that  overcome  the  world.  They  have  to  learn 
that  humility,  and  the  ambition  that  seeks  great  things, 
but  not  for  ourselves,  are  the  qualities  really  indis- 
pensable. But  do  men  become  humble  by  being  told 
to  become  so,  or  by  Ijnowing  they  ought  to  be  so  ? 
God  must  make  us  humble  by  the  actual  experience 
we  meet  with  in  our  ordinary  life.  Joseph,  no  doubt, 
knew  very  well,  what  his  aged  grandfather  must  often 
have  told  him,  that  a  man  must  die  before  he  begins  to 
live.  But  what  could  an  ambitious,  happy  youth  make 
of  this,  till  he  was  thrown  into  the  pit  and  left  there  ? 
as  truly  passing  through  the  bitterness  of  death  as 
Isaac  had  passed  through  it,  and  as  keenly  feeling  the 
pain  of  severance  from  the  light  of  life.  Then,  no 
doubt,  he  thought  of  Isaac,  and  of  Isaac's  God,  till 
between  himself  and  the  impenetrable  dungeon-walls 
the  everlasting  arms  seemed  to  interpose,  and  through 
the  darkness  of  his  death-like  solitude  the  face  of 
Jacob's  God  appeared  to  beam  upon  him,  and  he  came 
to  feel  what  we  must,  by  some  extremity,  all  be  made 
to  feel,  that  it  was  not  in  this  world's  life  but  in  God 
he  lived,  that  nothing  could  befall  him  which  God  did 


336  THE  BOOK   OF  GENESIS. 

not  will,  and  that  what  God  had  for  him  to  do,  God 
would  enable  him  to  do. 

The  heartless  barbarity  with  which  the  brethren  of 
Joseph  sat  down  to  eat  and  drink  the  very  dainties  he 
had  brought  them  from  his  father,  while  they  left  him, 
as  they  thought,  to  starve,  has  been  regarded  by  all 
later  generations  as  the  height  of  hard-hearted  in- 
difference. Amos,  at  a  loss  to  describe  the  recklessness 
of  his  own  generation,  falls  back  upon  this  incident, 
and  cries  woe  upon  those  "  that  drink  wine  in  bowls 
and  anoint  themselves  with  the  chief  ointment,  but 
they  are  not  grieved  for  the  affliction  of  Joseph."  We  re- 
flect, if  we  do  not  substantially  reproduce,  their  sin  when 
we  are  filled  with  animosity  against  those  who  usher 
in  some  higher  kind  of  life,  effort,  or  worship,  than  we 
ourselves  as  yet  desire  or  are  fit  for,  and  which,  therefore, 
reflects  shame  on  our  incapacity ;  and  when  we  would 
fain,  without  using  violence,  get  rid  of  such  persons. 
There  are  often  schemes  set  on  foot  by  better  men  than 
ourselves,  against  which  somehow  our  spirit  rises,  yet 
which,  did  we  consider,  we  should  at  the  most  say  with 
the  cautious  Gamaliel,  Let  us  beware  of  doing  anything 
to  hinder  this,  let  us  see  whether,  perchance,  it  be  not 
of  God,  Sometimes  there  are  in  families  individuals 
who  do  not  get  the  encouragement  in  well-doing  they 
might  expect  in  a  Christian  family,  but  are  rather 
frowned  upon  and  hindered  by  the  other  members  of 
it,  because  they  seem  to  be  inaugurating  a  higher  style 
of  religion  than  the  family  is  used  to,  and  to  be  reflect- 
ing from  their  own  conduct  a  condemnation  of  what 
has  hitherto  been  current. 

This  treatment,  who  among  us  has  not  extended  to 
Him  who  in  His  whole  experience  so  closely  resembles 
Joseph  ?     So  long  as  Christ  is  to  us  merely,  as  it  were, 


Gen.  xxxvii.]  JOSEPH'S  DREAMS.  337 

the  pet  of  the  family,  the  innocent,  guileless,  loving 
Being  on  whom  we  can  heap  pretty  epithets,  and  in 
whom  we  find  play  for  our  best  affections,  to  whom 
it  is  easier  to  show  ourselves  affectionate  and  well- 
disposed  than  to  the  brothers  who  mingle  with  us  in 
all  our  pursuits ;  so  long  as  He  remains  to  us  as  a 
child  whose  demands  it  is  a  relaxation  to  fulfil,  we 
fancy  that  we  are  giving  Him  our  hearts,  and  that  He, 
if  any,  has  our  love.  But  when  He  declares  to  us  His 
dreams,  and  claims  to  be  our  Lord,  to  whom  with  most 
absolute  homage  we  must  bow,  who  has  a  right  to  rule 
and  means  to  rule  over  us,  who  will  have  His  will 
done  by  us  and  not  our  own,  then  the  love  we  fancied 
seems  to  pass  into  something  like  aversion.  His  pur- 
poses we  would  fain  believe  to  be  the  idle  fancies  of  a 
dreamer  which  He  Himself  does  not  expect  us  to  pay 
much  heed  to.  And  if  we  do  not  resent  the  absolute 
surrender  of  ourselves  to  Him  which  He  demands,  if 
the  bowing  down  of  our  fullest  sheaves  and  brightest 
glory  to  Him  is  too  little  understood  by  us  to  be 
resented ;  if  we  think  such  dreams  are  not  to  come 
true,  and  that  He  does  not  mean  much  by  demanding 
our  homage,  and  therefore  do  not  resent  the  demand ; 
yet  possibly  we  can  remember  with  shame  how  we  have 
"anointed  ourselves  with  the  chief  ointment,"  lain  list- 
lessly enjoying  some  of  those  luxuries  which  our  Brother 
has  brought  us  from  the  Father's  house,  and  yet  let 
Himself  and  His  cause  be  buried  out  of  sight — enjoyed 
the  good  name  of  Christian,  the  pleasant  social  refine- 
ments of  a  Christian  land,  even  the  peace  of  conscience 
which  the  knowledge  of  the  Christian's  God  produces, 
and  yet  turned  away  from  the  deeper  emotions  which 
His  personal  entreaties  stir,  and  from  those  self-sacri- 
ficing efforts  vvliich  His  cause  requires  if  it  is  to  prosper. 

22 


338  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

There  are,  too,  unstable  Reubens  still,  whom  some- 
thing always  draws  aside,  and  who  are  ever  out  of 
the  way  when  most  needed;  who,  like  him,  are  on  the 
other  side  of  the  hill  when  Christ's  cause  is  being 
betrayed ;  who  still  count  their  own  private  business 
that  which  must  be  done,  and  God's  work  that  which 
may  be  done — work  for  themselves  necessary,  and- 
God's  work  only  voluntary  and  in  the  second  place. 
And  there  are  also  those  who,  though  they  would  be 
honestly  shocked  to  be  charged  with  murdering  Christ's 
cause,  can  yet  leave  it  to  perish. 


XXVI. 

lOSEPH  IN  PRISON'. 

Genesis  xxxix. 

**  Blessed  is  the  man  that  endureth  temptation  :  for  when  he  is  tried, 
he  shall  receive  the  crown  of  life." — James  i.  12. 

DRAMATISTS  and  novelists  who  make  it  their 
business  to  give  accurate  representations  of  human 
life,  proceed  upon  the  understanding  that  there  is  a 
plot  in  it,  and  that  if  you  take  the  beginning  or  middle 
without  the  end,  you  must  fail  to  comprehend  these 
prior  parts.  And  a  plot  is  pronounced  good  in  propor- 
tion as,  without  violating  truth  to  nature,  it  brings  the 
leading  characters  into  situations  of  extreme  danger  or 
distress,  from  which  there  seems  no  possible  exit,  and 
in  which  the  characters  themselves  may  have  fullest 
opportunity  to  display  and  ripen  their  individual  excel- 
lences. A  life  is  judged  poor  and  without  significance, 
certainly  unworthy  of  any  longer  record  than  a  monu- 
mental epitaph  may  contain,  if  there  be  in  it  no  critical 
passages,  no  emergencies  when  all  anticipation  of  the 
next  step  is  baffled,  or  when  ruin  seems  certain. 
Though  it  has  been  brought  to  a  successful  issue,  yet, 
to  make  it  worthy  of  our  consideration,  it  must  have 
been  brought  to  this  issue  through  hazard,  through 
opposition,  contrary  to  many  expectations  that  were 
plausibly  entertained  at  the  several  stages  of  its  career 


340  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

All  men,  in  short,  are  agreed  that  the  value  of  a  human 
life  consists  very  much  in  the  hazards  and  conflicts 
through  which  it  is  carried ;  and  yet  we  resent  God's 
dealing  with  us  when  it  comes  to  be  our  turn  to  play 
the  hero,  and  by  patient  endurance  and  righteous 
endeavour  to  bring  our  lives  to  a  successful  issue. 
How  flat  and  tame  would  this  narrative  have  read  had 
Joseph  by  easy  steps  come  to  the  dignity  he  at  last 
reached  through  a  series  of  misadventures  that  called 
out  and  ripened  all  that  was  manly  and  strong  and 
tender  in  his  character.  And  take  out  of  your  own 
life  all  your  difficulties,  all  that  ever  pained,  agitated, 
depressed  you,  all  that  disappointed  or  postponed  your 
expectations,  all  that  suddenly  called  upon  you  to  act 
in  trying  situations,  all  that  thoroughly  put  you  to  the 
proof — take  all  this  away,  and  what  do  you  leave,  but 
a  blank  insipid  life  that  not  even  3'ourself  can  see  any 
interest  in? 

And  when  we  speak  of  Joseph's  life  as  typical,  we 
mean  that  it  illustrates  on  a  great  scale  and  in  pictur- 
esque and  memorable  situations  principles  which  are 
obscurely  operative  in  our  own  experience.  It  pleases 
the  fancy  to  trace  the  incidental  analogies  between  the 
life  of  Joseph  and  that  of  our  Lord.  As  our  Lord,  so 
Joseph  was  the  beloved  of  his  father,  sent  by  him  to 
visit  his  brethren,  and  see  after  their  well-being,  seized 
and  sold  by  them  to  strangers,  and  thus  raised  to  be 
their  Saviour  and  the  Saviour  of  the  world.  Joseph 
in  prison  pronouncing  the  doom  of  one  of  his  fellow- 
prisoners  and  the  exaltation  of  the  other,  suggests 
the  scene  on  Calvary  where  the  one  fellow-sufferer  was 
taken,  the  other  left.  Josep'h's  contemporaries  had  of 
course  no  idea  that  his  life  foreshadowed  the  life  of  the 
Redeemer,  yet  they  must  have  seen,  or  ought  to  have 


Gen.xxxix]  JOSEPH  IN  PRISON.  341 


seen,  that  the  deepest  humiHation  is  often  the  path  to 
the  highest  exaltation,  that  the  deliverer  sent  by  God 
to  save  a  people  may  come  in  the  guise  of  a  slave,  and 
that  false  accusations,  imprisonment,  years  of  suffering, 
do  not  make  it  impossible  nor  even  unlikely  that  he 
who  endures  all  these  may  be  God's  chosen  Son. 

In  Joseph's  being  lifted  out  of  the  pit  only  to  pass 
into  slavery,  many  a  man  of  Joseph's  years  has  seen 
a  picture  of  what  has  happened  to  himself.  Frocn  a 
position  in  which  they  have  been  as  if  buried  alive, 
young  men  not  uncommonly  emerge  into  a  position 
preferable  certainly  to  that  out  of  which  they  have  been 
brougl.t,  but  in  which  they  are  compelled  to  work 
beyond  their  strength,  and  that  for  some  superior  in 
whom  they  have  no  special  interest.  Grinding  toil,  and 
often  cruel  insult,  are  their  portion  ;  and  no  necklace 
heavy  Vv'ith  tokens  of  honour  that  afterwards  may  be 
allotted  them  can  ever  quite  hide  the  scars  made  by  the 
iron  collar  of  the  slave.  One  need  not  pity  them  over 
much,  for  they  are  young  and  have  a  whole  life-time 
of  energy  and  power  of  resistance  in  their  spirit.  And 
yet  they  will  often  call  themselves  slaves,  and  complain 
that  all  the  fruit  of  their  labour  passes  over  to  others 
and  away  from  themselves,  and  all  prospect  of  the  ful- 
filment of  their  former  dreams  is  quite  cut  off.  That 
whicii  haunts  their  heart  by  day  and  by  night,  that 
which  they  seem  destined  and  fit  for,  the}'-  never  get 
time  nor  liberty  to  work  out  and  attain.  They  are 
never  viewed  as  proprietors  of  themselves,  who  may 
possibly  have  interests  of  their  own  and  hopes  of  their 
own. 

In  Joseph's  case  there  were  many  aggravations  of  the 
soreness  of  such  a  condition.  He  had  not  one  friend  in 
the  country.     He  had  no  knowledge  of  the  language, 


342  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

no  knowledge  of  any  trade  that  could  make  him  valuable 
in  Egypt— nothing,  in  short,  but  his  own  manhood  and 
his  faith  in  God.  His  introduction  to  Egypt  was  of 
the  most  dispiriting  kind.  What  could  he  expect  from 
strangers,  if  his  own  brothers  had  found  him  so 
obnoxious  ?  Now  when  a  man  is  thus  galled  and 
stung  by  injury,  and  has  learned  how  little  he  can 
depend  upon  finding  good  faith  and  common  justice 
in  the  world,  his  character  will  show  itself  in  the  atti- 
tude he  assumes  towards  men  and  towards  life  generally. 
A  weak  nature,  when  it  finds  itself  thus  deceived  and 
injured,  will  sullenly  surrender  all  expectation  of  good, 
and  will  vent  its  spleen  on  the  world  by  angry  denun- 
ciations of  the  heartless  and  ungrateful  ways  of  men. 
A  proud  nature  will  gather  itself  up  from  every  blow, 
and  determinedly  work  its  way  to  an  adequate  revenge,, 
A  mean  nature  will  accept  its  fate,  and  while  it  indulges 
in  cynical  and  spiteful  observations  on  human  life,  will 
greedily  accept  the  paltriest  rewards  it  can  secure.  But 
the  supreme  healthiness  of  Joseph's  nature  resists  all 
the  infectious  influences  that  emanate  from  the  world 
around  him,  and  preserves  him  from  every  kind  of 
morbid  attitude  towards  the  world  and  life.  So  easily 
did  he  throw  off  all  vain  regrets  and  stifle  all  vindictive 
and  morbid  feelings,  so  readily  did  he  adjust  himself  to 
and  so  heartily  enter  into  life  as  it  presented  itself  to 
him,  that  he  speedily  rose  to  be  overseer  in  the  house 
of  Potiphar.  His  capacity  for  business,  his  genial 
power  of  devoting  himself  to  other  men's  interests,  his 
clear  integrity,  were  such,  that  this  officer  of  Pharaoh's 
could  find  no  more  trustworthy  servant  in  all  Eg3'pt — 
"he  left  all  that  he  had  in  Joseph's  hand  :  and  he  knew 
not  ought  he  had,  save  the  bread  which  he  did  eat." 
Thus  Joseph  passed  safely  through  a  critical  period 


Gen.  xxxix.]  JOSEPH  I.V  FR/SO.V.  343 

of  his  life — the  period  during  which  men  assume  the 
attitude  towards  life  and  their  fellow-men  which  they 
commonl}^  retain  throughout.  Too  often  we  accept  the 
weapons  with  which  the  world  challenges  us,  and  seek 
to  force  our  way  by  means  little  more  commendable 
than  the  injustice  and  coldness  we  ourselves  resent. 
Joseph  gives  the  first  great  evidence  of  moral  strength 
by  rising  superior  to  this  temptation,  to  which  almost  all 
men  in  one  degree  or  other  succumb.  You  can  hear 
liim  saying,  deep  down  in  his  heart  and  almost  uncon- 
sciously to  himself:  If  the  world  is  full  of  hatred,  there 
is  all  the  more  need  that  at  least  one  man  should  forgive 
and  love ;  if  men's  hearts  are  black  with  selfishness, 
ambition,  and  lust,  all  the  more  reason  for  me  to  be 
pure  and  to  do  my  best  for  all  whom  my  service  can 
reach ;  if  cruelty,  lying,  and  fraud  meet  me  at  every 
step,  all  the  more  am  I  called  to  conquer  these  by  in- 
tegrity and  guilelessness. 

His  capacity,  then,  and  power  of  governing  others, 
were  no  longer  dreams  of  his  own,  but  qualities  with 
which  he  was  accredited  by  those  who  judged  dis- 
passionately and  from  the  bare  actual  results.  But  this 
recognition  and  promotion  brought  with  it  serious 
temptation.  So  capable  a  person  was  he  that  a  year 
or  two  had  brought  him  to  the  highest  post  he  could 
expect  as  a  slave.  His  advancement,  therefore,  only 
brought  his  actual  attainment  into  more  painful  con- 
trast with  the  attainment  of  his  dreams.  As  this  sense 
of  disappointment  becomes  more  familiar  to  his  heart, 
and  threatens,  under  the  monotonous  routine  of  his 
household  work,  to  deepen  into  a  habit,  there  suddenly 
opens  to  him  a  new  and  unthought-of  path  to  high 
position.  An  intrigue  with  Potiphar's  wife  might  lead 
to  the  very  advancement  he  sought.      It  might  lift  him 


344  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

out  of  the  condition  of  a  slave.  It  may  have  been 
known  to  him  that  other  men  had  not  scrupled  so  to 
promote  their  own  interests.  Besides,  Joseph  was 
young,  and  a  nature  like  his,  lively  and  sympathetic, 
must  have  felt  deeply  that  in  his  position  he  was  not 
likely  to  meet  such  a  woman  as  could  command  his 
cordial  love.  That  the  temptation  was  in  any  degree  to 
the  sensual  side  of  his  nature  there  is  no  evidence  what- 
ever. For  all  that  the  narrative  says,  Potiphar's  wife 
may  not  have  been  attractive  in  person.  She  may  have 
been ;  and  as  she  used  persistently,  "  day  by  day," 
every  art  and  wile  by  which  she  could  lure  Joseph  to 
her  mind,  in  some  of  his  moods  and  under  such  circum- 
stances as  she  would  study  to  arrange  he  may  have 
felt  even  this  element  of  the  temptation.  But  it  is  too 
little  observed,  and  especially  by  young  men  who  have 
most  need  to  observe  it,  that  in  such  temptations  it 
is  not  only  what  is  sensual  that  needs  to  be  guarded 
against,  but  also  two  much  deeper-lying  tendencies — the 
craving  for  loving  recognition,  and  the  desire  to  respond 
to  the  feminine  love  for  admiration  and  devotion.  The 
latter  tendency  may  not  seem  dangerous,  but  I  am  sure 
that  if  an  anal3^sis  could  be  made  of  the  broken  hearts  and 
shame-crushed  lives  around  us,  it  would  be  found  that 
a  large  proportion  of  misery  is  due  to  a  kind  of  uncon- 
trolled and  mistaken  chivalry.  Men  of  masculine  make 
are  prone  to  show  their  regard  for  women.  This  regard, 
wlien  genuine  and  manly,  will  show  itself  in  purity 
of  sympathy  and  respectful  attention.  But  when  this 
regard  is  debased  by  a  desire  to  please  and  ingratiate 
oneself,  men  are  precipitated  into  the  unseemly  expres- 
sions of  a  spurious  manhood.  The  other  craving — the 
craving  for  love — acts  also  in  a  somewhat  latent  way. 
It  is  this  craving  which  drives  men  to  seek  to  satisfy 


Gen.  xxxix.]  /OSEFH  IN  PRISON.  34S 

themselves  with  the  expressions  of  love,  as  if  thus 
they  could  secure  love  itself.  They  do  not  distinguish 
between  the  two  ;  they  do  not  recognise  that  what  they 
most  deepl}^  desire  is  love,  rather  than  the  expression 
of  it ;  and  they  awake  to  find  that  precisely  in  so  far  as 
they  have  accepted  the  expression  without  the  sentiment, 
in  so  far  have  they  put  love  itself  beyond  their  reach. 

This  temptation  was,  in  Joseph's  case,  aggravated  by 
his  being  in  a  foreign  country,  unrestrained  by  the 
expectations  of  his  own  family,  or  by  the  eye  of  those 
he  loved.  He  had,  however,  that  which  restrained 
him,  and  made  the  sin  seem  to  him  an  impossible 
wickedness,  the  thought  of  which  he  could  not,  for  a 
moment,  entertain.  "  Behold,  my  master  wotteth  not 
what  is  with  me  in  the  house,  and  he  hath  committed 
all  that  he  hath  to  my  hand ;  there  is  none  greater  in 
this  house  than  I ;  neither  hath  he  kept  back  anything 
from  me  but  thee,  because  thou  art  his  wife :  how  then 
can  I  do  this  great  wickedness,  and  sin  against  God  ?  " 
Gratitude  to  the  man  who  had  pitied  him  in  the  slave 
market,  and  shown  a  generous  confidence  in  a  com- 
parative stranger,  was,  with  Joseph,  a  stronger  senti- 
ment than  any  that  Potiphar's  wife  could  stir  in  him. 
One  can  well  believe  it.  We  know  what  enthusiastic 
devotedness  a  young  man  of  any  worth  delights  to 
give  to  his  superior  who  has  treated  him  with  justice, 
generosity,  and  confidence ;  who  himself  occupies  a 
station  of  importance  in  public  life ;  and  who,  by  a 
dignified  graciousness  of  demeanour,  can  make  even  the 
slave  feel  that -he  too  is  a  man,  and  that  through  his 
slave's  dress  his  proper  manhood  and  worth  are  recog- 
nised. There  are  few  stronger  sentiments  than  the 
enthusiasm  or  quiet  fidelity  that  can  thus  be  kindled, 
and  the  influence  such  a  superior  wields  over  the  young 


346  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

mind  is  paramount.  To  disregard  the  rights  of  his 
master  seemed  to  Joseph  a  great  wickedness  and  sin 
against  God.  The  treacliery  of  the  sin  strikes  him  ; 
his  native  discernment  of  the  true  rights  of  every  party 
in  the  case  cannot,  for  a  moment,  be  hoodwinked.  He 
is  not  a  man  who  can,  even  in  the  excitement  of  temp- 
tation, overlook  the  consequences  his  sin  may  have  on 
others.  Not  unsteadied  by  the  flattering  solicitations 
of  one  so  much  above  him  in  rank,  nor  sullied  by  the 
contagion  of  her  vehement  passion  ;  neither  afraid  to 
incur  the  resentment  of  one  who  so  regarded  him,  nor 
kindled  to  any  impure  desire  by  contact  with  her  blaz- 
ing lust ;  neither  scrupling  thoroughly  to  disappoint  her 
in  himself,  nor  to  make  her  feel  her  own  great  guilt,  he 
flung  from  him  the  strong  inducements  that  seemed  to 
net  him  round  and  entangle  him  as  his  garment  did,  and 
tore  himself,  shocked  and  grieved,  from  the  beseeching 
hand  of  his  temptress. 

The  incident  is  related  not  because  it  was  the  most 
violent  temptation  to  which  Joseph  was  ever  exposed, 
but  because  it  formed  a  necessary  link  in  the  chain  of 
circumstances  that  brought  him  before  Pharaoh.  And 
however  strong  this  temptation  may  have  been,  more 
men  would  be  found  who  could  thus  have  spoken  to 
Potiphar's  wife  than  who  could  have  kept  silence  when 
accused  by  Potiphar.  For  his  purity  you  will  find  his 
equal,  one  among  a  thousand ;  for  his  mercy  scarcely 
one.  For  there  is  nothing  more  intensely  trying  than 
to  live  under  false  and  painful  accusations,  which  totally 
misrepresent  and  damage  3^our  character^  which  effect- 
ually bar  your  advancement,  and  which  yet  you  have 
it  in  your  power  to  disprove.  Joseph,  feeling  his  in- 
debtedness to  Potiphar,  contents  himself  with  the 
simple  averment  that  he  himself  is  innocent.     The  word 


Gen.  xxxix.]  JOSEPH  IN  PRISON.  347 

is  on  his  tongue  that  can  put  a  very  different  face  on 
the  matter,  but  rather  than  utter  that  word,  Joseph  will 
suffer  the  stroke  that  otherwise  must  fall  on  his  master's 
honour ;  will  pass  from  his  high  place  and  office  of 
trust,  through  the  jeering  or  j/ossibly  compassionating 
slaves,  branded  as  one  who  has  betrayed  the  frankest 
confidence,  and  is  fitter  for  the  dungeon  than  the 
stewardship  of  Potiphar.  He  is  content  to  lie  under 
the  cruel  suspicion  that  he  had  in  the  foulest  way 
wronged  the  man  whom  most  !:e  should  have  regarded, 
and  whom  in  point  of  fact  he  did  enthusiastically  serve. 
There  was  one  man  in  Egypt  whose  good-will  he 
prized,  and  this  man  now  scorned  and  condemned  him, 
and  this  for  the  very  act  by  which  Joseph  had  proved 
most  faithful  and  deserving. 

And  even  after  a  long  imprisonment,  )yhen  he  had 
now  no  reputation  to  maintain,  and  v/hen  such  a  little 
bit  of  court  scandal  as  he  could  have  retailed  would 
have  been  highly  palatable  and  possibly  useful  to  some 
of  those  polished  ruffians  and  adventurers  who  made 
their  dungeon  ring  with  questionable  tales,  and  with 
whom  the  free  and  levelling  ii.tercourse  of  prison  life 
had  put  him  on  the  most  familiar  fooling,  and  when 
they  twitted  and  taunted  him  with  his  supposed  crime, 
and  gave  him  the  prison  sobriquet  that  would  most 
pungently  embody  his  villainy  and  failure,  and  when  it 
might  plausibly  have  been  pleaded  by  himself  that  such 
a  woman  should  be  exposed,  Joseph  uttered  no  word  of 
recrimination,  but  quietly  endured,  knowing  that  God's 
providence  could  allow  him  to  be  merciful;  protesting, 
when  needful,  that  he  himself  was  innocent,  but  seeking 
to  entangle  no  one  else  in  his  misfortune. 

It  is  this  that  has  made  the  world  seem  so  terrible  a 
place  to  many — that  the  innocent  must  so  often  suffer 


348  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

lor  the  guilty,  and  that,  without  appeal,  the  pure  and 
loving  must  lie  in  chains  and  bitterness,  while  the 
wicked  live  and  see  good  days.  It  is  this  that  has 
made  men  most  despairingly  question  whether  there  be 
indeed  a  God  in  heaven  Who  knows  who  the  real  culprit 
is,  and  3'et  suffers  a  terrible  doom  slowly  to  close  around 
the  innocent ;  Who  sees  where  the  guilt  lies,  and  3'et 
moves  no  finger  nor  speaks  the  word  that  would  bring 
justice  to  light,  shaming  the  secure  triumph  of  the 
wrongdoer,  and  saving  the  bleeding  spirit  from  its 
agony.  It  was  this  that  came  as  the  last  stroke  of  the 
passion  of  our  Lord,  that  He  was  numbered  among  the 
transgressors ;  it  was  this  that  caused  or  materially 
increased  the  feeling  that  God  had  deserted  Him  ;  and 
it  was  this  that  wrung  from  Him  the  cry  which  once 
was  wrung  from  David,  and  may  well  have  been  wrung 
from  Joseph,  when,  cast  into  the  dungeon  as  a  mean 
and  treacherous  villain,  v/hose  freedom  was  the  peril 
of  domestic  peace  and  honour,  he  found  himself  again 
helpless  and  forlorn,  regarded  now  not  as  a  mere 
worthless  lad,  but  as  a  criminal  of  the  lowest  type. 
And  as  there  always  recur  cases  in  which  exculpation 
is  impossible  just  in  proportion  as  the  party  accused 
is  possessed  of  honourable  feeling,  and  where  silent 
acceptance  of  doom  is  the  result  not  of  convicted  guilt, 
but  of  the  very  triumph  of  self-sacrifice,  we  must  beware 
of  over-suspicion  and  injustice.  There  is  nothing  in 
which  we  are  more  frequently  mistaken  than  in  our 
suspicions  and  harsh  judgments  of  others. 

"  But  the  Lord  was  with  Joseph,  and  allowed  him 
mercy,  and  gave  him  favour  in  the  sight  of  the  keeper 
of  the  prison."  As  in  Potiphar's  house,  so  in  the  king's 
house  of  detention,  Joseph's  fidelity  and  serviceableness 
made  him  seem  indispensable,  and  by  sheer  force    of 


Gen.  xxxix.]  JOSEPH  IN  FRISOy.  349 

character  he  occupied  the  place  rather  of  governor  than 
of  prisoner.  The  discerning  men  he  had  to  do  with, 
accustomed  to  deal  with  criminals  and  suspects  of  all 
shades,  very  quickly  perceived  that  in  Joseph's  case 
justice  was  at  fault,  and  that  he  was  a  mere  scape-goat. 
Well  might  Potiphar's  wife,  like  Pilate's,  have  had 
warning  dreams  regarding  the  innocent  person  who  was 
being  condemned ;  and  probably  Potiphar  himself  had 
suspicion  enough  of  the  true  state  of  matters  to  prevent 
him  from  going  to  extremities  with  Joseph,  and  so  to 
imprison  him  more  out  of  deference  to  the  opinion  of 
his  household,  and  for  the  sake  of  appearances,  than 
because  Joseph  alone  was  the  object  of  his  anger.  At 
any  rate,  such  was  the  vitality  of  Joseph's  confidence  in 
God,  and  such  was  the  light-heartedness  that  sprang 
from  his  integrity  of  conscience,  that  he  was  free  from 
all  absorbing  anxiety  about  himself,  and  had  leisure  to 
amuse  and  help  his  fellow-prisoners,  so  that  such  pro- 
motion as  a  gaol  could  afford  he  won,  from  a  dungeon 
to  a  chain,  from  a  chain  to  his  word  of  honour.  Thus 
even  in  the  unlatticed  dungeon  the  sun  and  moon  look 
in  upon  him  and  bow  to  him  ;  and  while  his  sheaf  seems 
at  its  poorest,  all  rust  and  mildew,  the  sheaves  of  his 
masters  do  homage. 

After  the  arrival  of  two  such  notable  criminals  as  the 
chief  butler  and  baker  of  Pharaoh— the  chamberlain  and 
steward  of  the  royal  household — Joseph,  if  sometimes 
pensive,  must  yet  have  had  sufficient  entertainment  at 
times  in  conversing  with  men  who  stood  by  the  king, 
and  were  familiar  with  the  statesmeu,  courtiers,  and 
military  men  who  frequented  the  house  of  Potiphar. 
He  had  now  ample  opportunity  for  acquiring  infor- 
mation which  afterwards  stood  him  in  good  stead,  for 
apprehending  the  character  of  Pharaoh,  and  for  making 


3SO  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

himself  acquainted  with  many  details  of  his  government, 
and  with  thse  general  condition  of  the  people.  Officials 
in  disgrace  would  be  found  much  more  accessible  and 
much  more  communicative  of  important  information 
than  officials  in  court  favour  could  have  been  to  one 
in  Joseph's  position. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  three  nights  before  Pharaoh's 
birthday  these  functionaries  of  the  court  should  have 
recalled  in  sleep  such  scenes  as  that  day  was  wont  to 
bring  round,  nor  that  they  should  vividly  have  seen 
the  parts  they  themselves  used  to  play  in  the  festival. 
Neither  is  it  surprising  that  they  should  have  had 
very  anxious  thoughts  regarding  their  own  fate  on  a 
day  which  was  chosen  for  deciding  the  fate  of  political 
or  courtly  offenders.  But  it  is  remarkable  that  they 
having  dreamed  these  dreams  Joseph  should  have  been 
found  willing  to  interpret  them.  One  desires  some 
evidence  of  Joseph's  attitude  towards  God  during  this 
period  when  God's  attitude  towards  him  might  seem 
doubtful,  and  especially  one  would  like  to  know  what 
Joseph  by  this  time  thought  of  his  juvenile  dreams,  and 
whether  in  the  prison  his  face  wore  the  same  beaming 
confidence  in  his  own  future  which  had  smitten  the 
hearts  of  his  brothers  with  impatient  envy  of  the 
dreamer.  We  seek  some  evidence,  and  here  we  find 
it.  Joseph's  willingness  to  interpret  the  dreams  of  his 
fellow-prisoners  proves  that  he  still  believed  in  his  own, 
that  among  his  other  qualities  he  had  this  characteristic 
also  of  a  steadfast  and  profound  soul,  that  he  "rever- 
enced as  a  man4:he  dreams  of  his  youth."  Had  he  not 
done  so,  and  had  he  not  yet  hoped  that  somehow  God 
would  bring  truth  out  of  them,  he  would  surely  have 
said  :  Don't  you  believe  in  dreams ;  they  will  only  get 
you  into  difficulties.     He  would  have  said  what  some 


Gen.xxxix.]  JOSEPH  IN  PRISON.  351 

of  US  could  dictate  from  our  own  thoughts  :  I  won't 
meddle  with  dreams  any  more  ;  I  am  not  so  young  as 
I  once  was  ;  doctrines  and  principles  that  served  for 
fervent  romantic  youth  seem  puerile  now,  when  I  have 
learned  what  human  life  actually  is ;  I  can't  ask  this 
man,  who  knows  the  world  and  has  held  the  cup  for 
Pharaoh,  and  is  aware  what  a  practical  shape  the  king's 
anger  takes,  to  cherish  hopes  similar  to  those  which 
often  seem  so  remote  and  doubtful  to  myself.  My 
religion  has  brought  me  into  trouble  :  it  has  lost  me  my 
situation,  it  has  kept  me  poor,  it  has  made  me  despised, 
it  has  debarred  me  from  enjoyment.  Can  I  ask  this 
man  to  trust  to  inward  whisperings  which  seem  to 
have  so  misled  me  ?  No,  no  ;  let  every  man  bear  his 
own  burden.  If  he  wishes  to  become  religious,  let  not 
me  bear  the  responsibility.  If  he  will  dream,  let  him 
find  some  other  interpreter. 

This  casual  conversation,  then,  with  his  fellow- 
prisoners  was  for  Joseph  one  of  those  perilous  moments 
when  a  man  holds  his  fate  in  his  hand,  and  yet  does 
not  know  that  he  is  specially  on  trial,  but  has  for  his 
guidance  and  safe-conduct  through  the  hazard  only  the 
ordinary  safeguards  and  lights  by  the  aid  of  which  he 
is  framing  his  daily  life.  A  man  cannot  be  forewarned 
of  trial,  if  the  trial  is  to  be  a  fair  test  of  his  habitual 
life.  He  must  not  be  called  to  the  lists  by  the  herald's 
trumpet  warning  him  to  mind  his  seat  and  grasp  his 
weapon  ;  but  must  be  suddenly  set  upon  if  his  habit  of 
steadiness  and  balance  is  to  be  tested,  and  the  warrior- 
instinct  to  which  the  right  weapon  is  ever  at  hand. 
As  Joseph,  going  the  round  of  his  morning  duty  and 
spreading  what  might  stir  the  appetite  of  these  dainty 
courtiers,  noted  the  gloom  on  their  faces,  had  he  not 
been  of  a  nature  to  take  upon  himself  the  sorrows  of 


352  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

ethers,  he  might  have  been  glad  to  escape  from  their 
presence,  fearful  lest  he  should  be  infected  by  their 
depression,  or  should  become  an  object  en  which  they 
might  vent  their  ill-humour.  But  he  was  girt  with  a 
healthy  cheerfulness  that  could  bear  more  than  his  own 
burden ;  and  his  pondering  of  his  own  experience  made 
him  sensitive  to  all  that  affected  the  destinies  of  other 
men. 

Thus  Joseph  in  becoming  the  interpreter  of  the 
dreams  of  other  men  became  the  fulfiller  of  his  own. 
Had  he  made  light  of  the  dreams  of  his  fellow-prisoners 
because  he  had  already  made  light  of  his  own,  he 
would,  for  aught  we  can  see,  have  died  in  the  dungeon. 
And,  indeed,  what  hope  is  left  for  a  man,  and  what 
deliverance  is  possible,  when  he  makes  light  of  his  own 
most  sacred  experience,  and  doubts  whether  after  all 
there  was  any  Divine  voice  in  that  part  of  his  life  which 
once  he  felt  to  be  full  of  significance?  Sadness,  cynical 
worldliness,  irritability,  sour  and  isolating  selfishness, 
rapid  deterioration  in  every  part  of  the  character — 
these  are  the  results  which  follow  our  repudiation  of 
past  experience  and  denial  of  truth  that  once  animated 
and  purified  us ;  when,  at  least,  this  repudiation  and 
denial  are  not  themselves  the  results  of  our  advance  to 
a  higher,  more  animating,  and  more  purifying  truth. 
We  cannot  but  leave  behind  us  many  "childish  things," 
beliefs  that  we  now  recognise  as  mere  superstitions, 
hopes  and  fears  which  do  not  move  the  maturer  mind; 
we  cannot  but  seek  always  to  be  stripping  ourselves  of 
modes  of  thinking  which  have  served  their  purpose  and 
are  out  of  date,  but  we  do  so  only  for  the  sake  of 
attaining  freer  movement  in  all  serviceable  and  right- 
eous conduct,  and  more  adequate  covering  for  the 
permanent  weaknesses   cf  our  own   nature — "not   for 


Gen.  xxxix  J  JOSEPH  IN  PRISON.  353 

that  we  would  be  unclothed,  but  clothed  upon,"  that 
truth  partial  and  dawning  may  be  swallowed  up  in  the 
perfect  light  of  noon.  And  when  a  supposed  advance 
in  the  knowledge  of  things  spiritual  robs  us  of  all  that 
sustains  true  spiritual  life  in  us,  and  begets  an  angry 
contempt  of  our  own  past  experience  and  a  proud 
scorning  of  the  dreams  that  agitate  other  men ;  when 
it  ministers  not  at  all  to  the  growth  in  us  of  what  is 
tender  and  pure  and  loving  and  progressive,  but  hardens 
us  to  a  sullen  or  coarsely  riotous  or  coldly  calculating 
character,  we  cannot  but  question  whether  it  is  not  a 
delusion  rather  than  a  truth  that  has  taken  possession 
of  us. 

If  it  is  fanciful,  it  is  yet  almost  inevitable,  to  compare 
Joseph  at  this  stage  of  his  career  to  the  great  Inter- 
preter who  stands  between  God  and  us,  and  makes  all 
His  signs  intelligible.  Those  Egyptians  could  not  for- 
bear honouring  Joseph,  who  was  able  to  solve  to  them 
the  mysteries  on  the  borders  of  which  the  Eg3'ptian 
mind  continually  hovered,  and  which  it  symbolized 
by  its  mysterious  sphinxes,  its  strange  chambers  of 
imagery,  its  unapproachable  divinities.  And  we  bow 
before  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  because  He  can  read  our 
fate  and  unriddle  all  our  dim  anticipations  of  good 
and  evil,  and  make  intelligible  to  us  the  visions  of  our 
own  hearts.  There  is  that  in  us,  as  in  these  men,  from 
which  a  skilled  eye  could  already  read  our  destiny.  In 
the  eye  of  One  who  sees  the  end  from  the  beginning, 
and  can  distinguish  between  the  determining  influences 
of  character  and  the  insignificant  manifestations  of  a 
passing  mood,  we  are  already  designed  to  our  eternal 
places.  And  it  is  in  Christ  alone  your  future  is 
explained.  You  cannot  understand  your  future  with- 
out taking  Him  into  your  confidence.     You  go  forward 

23 


354  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

blindly  to  meet  you  know  not  what,  unless  you  listen 
to  His  interpretatioi.  of  the  vague  presentiments  that 
visit  you.  Without  Him  what  can  we  make  of  those 
suspicions  of  a  future  judgment,  or  of  those  yearnings 
after  God,  that  hang  about  our  hearts  ?  Without  Him 
what  can  we  make  of  the  idea  and  hope  of  a  better 
life  than  we  are  now  living,  or  of  the  strange  persuasion 
that  all  will  yet  be  well — a  persuasion  that  seems  so 
groundless,  and  which  yet  will  not  be  shaken  off,  but 
finds  its  explanation  in  Christ  ?  The  excess  of  side 
light  that  falls  across  our  path  from  the  present  seems 
only  to  make  the  future  more  obscure  and  doubtful, 
and  from  Him  alone  do  we  receive  any  interpretation 
of  ourselves  that  even  seems  to  be  satisfying.  Our 
fellow-prisoners  are  often  seen  to  be  so  absorbed  in 
their  own  affairs  that  it  is  vain  to  seek  light  from  them; 
but  He,  w^ith  patient,  self- forgetting  friendliness,  is 
ever  disengaged,  and  even  elicits,  by  the  kindly  and  in- 
terrogating attitude  He  takes  towards  us,  the  utterance 
of  all  our  woes  and  perplexities.  And  it  is  because 
He  has  had  dreams  Himself  that  He  has  become  so 
skilled  an  interpreter  of  ours.  It  is  because  in  His 
own  life  He  had  His  mind  hard  pressed  for  a  solution 
of  those  very  problems  which  baffle  us,  because  He 
had  for  Himself  to  adjust  God's  promise  to  the  ordinary 
and  apparently  casual  and  untoward  incidents  of  a 
human  life,  and  because  He  had  to  wait  long  before  it 
became  quite  clear  how  one  Scripture  after  another  was 
to  be  fulfilled  by  a  course  of  simple  confiding  obedience 
— it  is  because  of  this  experience  of  His  own,  that  He 
can  now  enter  into  and  rightly  guide  to  its  goal  every 
longing  we  cherish. 


XXVII. 

PHARAOH'S  DREAMS, 

Genesis  xli. 

"  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  that  frustrateth  the  tokens  of  the  liars,  and 
maketh  diviners  mad  ;  that  confirmeth  the  word  of  His  servant,  and 
performeth  the  counsel  of  His  messengers  :  that  saith  of  Cyrus,  He  is 
My  shepherd,  and  shall  perform  all  My  pleasure." — IsA.  xliv.  25,  28. 

THE  preceding  act  in  this  great  drama — the  act 
comprising  the  scenes  of  Joseph's  temptation^ 
unjust  imprisonment,  and  interpretation  of  his  fellow- 
prisoners'  dreams — was  written  for  the  sake  of  explain- 
ing how  Joseph  came  to  be  introduced  to  Pharaoh. 
Other  friendships  may  have  been  formed  in  the  prison, 
and  other  threads  may  have  been  spun  which  went  to 
make  up  the  life  of  Joseph,  but  this  only  is  pursued. 
For  a  time,  however,  there  seemed  very  little  prospect 
that  this  would  prove  to  be  the  thread  on  which  his 
destiny  hung.  Joseph  made  a  touching  appeal  to  the 
Chief  Butler  :  "  yet  did  not  the  Chief  Butler  remember 
Joseph,  but  forgat  him."  You  can  see  him  in  the  joy 
of  his  release  affectionately  pressing  Joseph's  hand  as 
the  king's  messengers  knocked  off  his  fetters.  You  can 
see  him  assuring  Joseph,  by  his  farewell  look,  that  he 
might  trust  him ;  mistaking  mere  elation  at  his  own 
release  for  warmth  of  feeling  tov/ards  Joseph,  though 
perhaps  even  already  feeling  just  the  slightest  touch 


356  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

of  awkwardness  at  being  seen  on  such  intimate  terms 
with  a  Hebrew  slave.  How  could  he,  when  in  the 
palace  of  Pharaoh  and  decorated  with  the  insignia  of  his 
office  and  surrounded  by  courtiers,  break  through  the 
formal  etiquette  of  the  place  ?  What  with  the  pleasant 
congratulations  of  old  friends,  and  the  accumulation  of 
business  since  he  had  been  imprisoned,  and  the  excite- 
ment of  restoration  from  so  low  and  hopeless  to  so 
high  and  busy  a  position,  the  promise  to  Joseph  is 
obliterated  from  his  mind.  If  it  once  or  twice  recurs 
to  his  memory,  he  persuades  himself  he  is  waiting  for 
a  good  opening  to  mention  Joseph.  It  would  perhaps 
be  unwarrantable  to  say  that  he  admits  the  idea 
that  he  is  in  no  way  indebted  to  Joseph,  since  all  that 
Joseph  had  done  was  to  interpret,  but  by  no  means  to 
determine,  his  fate. 

The  analogy  which  we  could  not  help  seeing  between 
Joseph's  relation  to  his  fellow-prisoners,  and  our  Lord's 
relation  to  us,  pursues  us  here.  For  does  not  the  bond 
between  us  and  Him  seem  often  very  slender,  when 
once  we  have  received  from  Him  the  knowledge  of  the 
King's  good-will,  and  find  ourselves  set  in  a  place  of 
security  ?  Is  not  Christ  with  many  a  mere  stepping- 
stone  for  their  own  advancement,  and  of  interest  only 
so  long  as  they  are  in  anxiety  about  their  own  fate  ? 
Their  regard  for  Him  seems  abruptly  to  terminate  as 
soon  as  they  are  ushered  to  freer  air.  Brought  for 
a  while  into  contact  with  Him,  the  very  peace  and 
prosperity  which  that  intercourse  has  introduced  them 
to  become  opiates  to  dull  their  memory  and  their 
gratitude.  They  have  received  all  they  at  present 
desire,  they  have  no  more  dreams,  their  life  has  become 
so  plain  ^  and  simple  and  glad  that  they  need  no 
interpreter.     They  seem  to  regard  Him  no  more  than 


Gen.xli.]  PHARAOH'S  DREAMS.  357 

an  official  is  regarded  who  is  set  to  discharge  to  all 
comers  some  duty  for  which  he  is  paid  ;  who  mingles 
no  love  with  his  work,  and  from  whom  they  would 
receive  the  same  benefits  whether  he  had  any  personal 
interest  in  them  or  no.  But  there  is  no  Christianity 
where  there  is  no  loving  remembrance  of  Christ.  If 
your  contact  with  Him  has  not  made  Him  your  Friend 
whom  you  can  by  no  possibility  forget,  you  have  missed 
the  best  result  of  your  introduction  to  Him.  It  makes 
one  think  meanly  of  the  Chief  Butler  that  such  a 
personality  as  Joseph's  had  not  more  deeply  impressed 
him — that  everything  he  heard  and  saw  among  the 
courtiers  did  not  make  him  say  to  himself:  There  is  a 
friend  of  mine,  in  prison  hard  by,  that  for  beauty, 
wisdom,  and  vivacity  would  more  than  match  the  finest 
of  you  all.  And  it  says  very  little  for  us  if  we  can 
have  known  anything  of  Christ  without  seeing  that  in 
Him  we  have  what  is  nowhere  else,  and  without  finding 
that  He  has  become  the  necessity  of  our  life  to  whom 
we  turn  at  every  point. 

But,  as  things  turned  out,  it  was  perhaps  as  well  for 
Joseph  that  his  promising  friend  did  forget  him.  For, 
supposing  the  Chief  Butler  had  overcome  his  natural 
reluctance  to  increase  his  own  indebtedness  to  Pharaoh 
by  interceding  for  a  friend,  supposing  he  had  been 
willing  to  risk  the  friendship  of  the  Captain  of  the 
Guard  by  interfering  in  so  delicate  a  matter,  and  sup- 
posing Pharaoh  had  been  willing  to  listen  to  him,  what 
would  have  been  the  result  ?  Probably  that  Joseph 
would  have  been  sold  away  to  the  quarries,  for  certainly 
he  could  not  have  been  restored  to  Potiphar's  house ; 
or,  at  the  most,  he  might  have  received  his  liberty,  and 
a  free  pass  out  of  Egypt.  That  is  to  say,  ho  would 
have  obtained  liberty  to  return  to  sheep-shearing  and 


358  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

cattle-dealing  and  checkmating  his  brother's  plots.     In 
any  probable  case  his  career  would  have  tended  rather  to- 
wards obscurity  than  towards  the  fulfilment  of  his  dreams. 
There  seems  equal  reason  to  congratulate  Joseph  on 
his  friend's  forgetfulness,  when  we  consider  its  probable 
effects,  not  on  his  career,  but  on  his  character.     When 
he  was  left  in  prison  after  so  sudden  and  exciting  an 
incursion  of  the  outer  world  as  the  king's  messengers 
would  make,  his  mind   must  have  run  chiefl}'  in  two 
lines  of  thought.     Naturally  he  would  feel  soma  envy 
of  the  man  who  was  being  restored ;  and  when  day  after 
day  passed   and  more  than   the    former   monotony   of 
prison  routine  palled  on  his  spirit ;  when  he  found  how 
completely  he  was  forgotten,  and  how  friendless  and 
lone  a  creature  he  was  in  that  strange  land  where  things 
had  gone  so  mysteriously  against  him ;  when  he  saw 
before  him  no  other  fate  than  that  which  he  had  seen 
befall  so  many  a  slave  thrown  into  a  dungeon  at  his 
master's  pleasure  and  never  more   heard  of,  he  must 
have  been  sorely  tempted  to  hate  the  whole  world,  and 
especially  those  brethren  who  had  been  the  beginning 
of  all  his  misfortunes.     Had  there  been  any  selfishness 
in  solution  in  Joseph's  character,  this  is  the  point  at 
which  it  would  have  quickly  crystallized  into  permanent 
forms.     For  nothing  more  certainly  elicits  and  confirms 
selfishness  than  bad  treatment.     But  from  his  conduct 
on  his  release,  we  see  clearly  enough  that  through  all 
this  trying  time  his  heroism  was  not  only  that  of  the 
strong  man  who  vows  that  though  the  whole  world  is 
against  him  the  day  will  come  when   the  world  shall 
have  need  of  him,  but  of  the   saint  of  God  in  whom 
suffering  and  injustice  leave  no  bitterness  against  his 
fellows,  nor  even  provoke  one  slightest  morbid  utterance. 
But  another  process  must  have  been  going  on  in 


Gen.  xli.]  PHARAOWS  DREAMS.  359 

Joseph's  mind  at  the  same  time.  He  must  have  felt 
that  it  was  a  very  serious  thing  that  he  had  been  called 
upon  to  do  in  interpreting  God's  will  to  his  fellow- 
prisoners.  No  doubt  he  fell  into  it  quite  naturally  and 
aptly,  because  it  was  liker  his  proper  vocation,  and  more 
of  his  character  could  come  out  in  it  than  in  anything 
he  had  yet  done.  Still,  to  be  mixed  up  thus  with 
matters  of  life  and  death  concerning  other  people,  and 
to  have  men  of  practical  ability  and  experience  and 
high  position  listening  to  him  as  to  an  oracle,  and  to 
find  that  in  very  truth  a  great  power  was  committed  to 
him,  was  calculated  to  have  some  considerable  result 
one  way  or  other  on  Joseph.  And  these  two  years  of 
unrelieved  and'  sobering  obscurity  cannot  but  be  con- 
sidered most  opportune.  For  one  of  two  things  is  apt 
to  follow  the  world's  first  recognition  of  a  man's  gifts. 
He  is  either  induced  to  pander  to  the  world's  wonder 
and  become  artificial  and  strained  in  all  he  does,  so 
losing  the  spontaneity  and  naturalness  and  sincerity 
which  characterise  the  best  work  ;  or  he  is  awed  and 
steadied.  And  whether  the  one  or  the  other  result 
follow,  will  depend  very  much  on  the  other  things  that 
are  happening  to  him.  In  Joseph's  case  it  was  probably 
well  that  after  having  made  proof  of  his  powers  he  was 
left  in  such  circumstances  as  would  not  only  give  him 
time  for  reflection,  but  also  give  a  humble  and  believ- 
ing turn  to  his  reflections.  He  was  not  at  once  exalted 
to  the  priestly  caste,  nor  enrolled  among  the  wise  men, 
nor  put  in  any  position  in  which  he  would  have  been 
under  constant  temptation  to  display  and  trifle  with  his 
power ;  and  so  he  was  led  to  the  conviction  that  deeper 
even  than  the  joy  of  receiving  the  recognition  and  grati- 
tude of  men  was  the  abiding  satisfaction  of  having  dono 
the  thing  God  had  given  him  to  do. 


36o  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

These  two  years,  then,  during  which  Joseph's  active 
mind  must  necessarily  have  been  forced  to  provide  food 
for  itself,  and  have  been  thrown  back  upon  his  past 
experience,  seem  to  have  been  of  eminent  service  in 
maturing  his  character.  The  self-possessed  dignity 
and  ease  of  command  which  appear  in  him  from  the 
moment  when  he  is  ushered  into  Pharaoh's  presence 
have  their  roots  in  these  two  years  of  silence.  As  the 
bones  of  a  strong  man  are  slowly,  imperceptibly  knit, 
and  gradually  take  the  shape  and  texture  they  retam 
throughout ;  so  during  these  years  there  was  silently 
and  secretly  consolidating  a  character  of  almost  un- 
paralleled calmness  and  power.  One  has  no  words  to 
express  how  tantalizing  it  must  have  been  to  Joseph 
to  see  this  Egyptian  have  his  dreams  so  gladly  and 
speedily  fulfilled,  while  he  himself,  who  had  so  long 
waited  on  the  true  God,  was  left  waiting  still,  and  now 
so  utterly  unbefriended  that  there  seemed  no  possible^ 
way  of  ever  again  connecting  himself  with  the  world 
outside  the  prison  walls.  Being  pressed  thus  for  an 
answer  to  the  question.  What  does  God  mean  to  make 
of  my  life  ?  he  was  brought  to  see  and  to  hold  as  the 
most  important  truth  for  him,  that  the  first  concern  is, 
that  God's  purposes  be  accomplished  ;  the  second,  that 
his  own  dreams  be  fulfilled.  He  was  enabled,  as  we 
shall  see  in  the  sequel,  to  put  God  truly  in  the  first 
place,  and  to  see  that  by  forwarding  the  interests  of 
other  men,  even  though  they  were  but  light-minded 
chief  butlers  at  a  foreign  court,  he  might  be  as  ser- 
viceably  furthering  the  purposes  of  God,  as  if  he  were 
forwarding  his  own  interests.  He  was  compelled  to 
seek  for  some  principle  that  would  sustain  and  guide 
him  in  the  midst  of  much  disappointment  and  per- 
plexity,  and    he    found    it   in    the  conviction   that   the 


Gen.  xli.]  PIIAKAOIPS  DREAMS.  361 

essential  thing  to  be  accomplished  in  this  world,  and 
to  which  every  man  must  lay  his  shoulder,  is  God's 
purpose.  Let  that  go  on,  and  all  else  that  should  go 
on  will  go  on.  And  he  further  saw  that  he  best  fulfils 
God's  purpose  who,  without  anxiety  and  impatience, 
does  the  duty  of  the  day,  and  gives  himself  without 
stint  to  the  "  charities  that  soothe  and  heal  and  bless." 

His  perception  of  the  breadth  of  God's  purpose,  and 
his  profound  and  sympathetic  and  active  submission  to 
it,  were  qualities  too  rare  not  to  be  called  into  influential 
exercise.  After  two  years  he  is  suddenly  summoned 
to  becom.e  God's  interpreter  to  Pharaoh.  The  Egyptian 
king  was  in  the  unhappy  though  not  uncommon  position 
of  having  a  revelation  from  God  which  he  could  not 
read,  intimations  and  presentiments  he  could  not 
interpret.  To  one  man  is  given  the  revelation,  to 
another  the  interpretation.  The  official  dignity  of  the 
king  is  respected,  and  to  him  is  given  the  revelation 
which  concerns  the  welfare  of  the  whole  people.  But 
to  read  God's  meaning  in  a  revelation  requires  a 
spiritual  intelligence  trained  to  sympathy  with  His 
purposes,  and  such  a  spirit  was  found  in  Joseph  alone. 

The  dreams  of  Pharaoh  were  thoroughly  Egyptian. 
The  marvel  is,  that  a  symbolism  so  familiar  to  the 
Egyptian  eye  should  not  have  been  easily  legible  to 
even  the  most  slenderly  gifted  of  Pharaoh's  wise  men. 
"  In  my  dream,"  says  the  king,  "  behold,  I  stood  upon 
the  bank  of  the  river  :  and,  behold,  there  came  up  out 
of  the  river  seven  kine,"  and  so  on.  Every  land  or 
city  is  proud  of  its  river,  but  none  has  such  cause  to 
be  so  as  Egypt  of  its  Nile.  The  country  is  accurately 
as  well  as  poetically  called  "  the  gift  of  Nile."  Out 
of  the  river  do  really  come  good  or  bad  years,  fat  or 
lean  kine.     Wholly  dependent  on  its  annual  rise  and 


362  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

overflow  for  the  irrigating  and  enriching  of  the  soil, 
the  people  worship  it  and  love  it,  and  at  the  season 
of  its  overflow  give  way  to  the  most  rapturous  ex- 
pressions of  joy.  The  cow  also  was  reverenced  as  the 
symbol  of  the  earth's  productive  power.  If  then,  as 
Joseph  avers,  God  wished  to  show  to  Pharaoh  that 
seven  years  of  plenty  were  approaching,  this  announce- 
ment could  hardly  have  been  made  plainer  in  the 
language  of  dreams  than  by  showing  to  Pharaoh  seven 
well-favoured  kine  coming  up  out  of  the  bountiful 
river  to  feed  on  the  meadow  made  richly  green  by  its 
waters.  If  the  king  had  been  sacrificing  to  the  river, 
such  a  sight,  familiar  as  it  was  to  the  dwellers  by  the 
Nile,  might  well  have  been  accepted  by  him  as  a 
promise  of  plenty  in  the  land.  But  what  agitated 
Pharaoh,  and  gave  him  the  shuddering  presentiment 
of  evil  which  accompanies  some  dreams,  was  the  sequel. 
"  Behold,  seven  other  kine  came  up  after  them,  poor 
and  very  ill-favoured -and  lean-fleshed,  such  as  I  never 
saw  in  all  the  land  of  Egypt  for  badness :  and  the  lean 
and  the  ill-favoured  kine  did  eat  up  the  first  seven  fat 
kine :  and  when  they  had  eaten  them  up  it  could  not  be 
known  that  they  had  eaten  them ;  but  they  were  still 
ill-favoured,  as  at  the  beginning," — a  picture  which  to 
the  inspired  dream-reader  represented  seven  years  of 
famine  so  grievous,  that  the  preceding  plenty  should 
be  swallowed  up  and  not  be  known.  A  similar  image 
occurred  to  a  writer  who,  in  describing  a  more  recent 
famine  in  the  same  land,  says :  "  The  year  presented 
itself  as  a  monster  whose  wrath  must  annihilate  all  the 
resources  of  life  and  all  the  means  of  subsistence." 

It  tells  in  favour  of  the  court  magicians  and  wise 
men  that  not  one  of  them  offered  an  interpretation  of 
dreams  to  which    it    would    certainly    not    have    been 


Gen.  xli.]  PHARAOirS  DREAMS.  363 

difficult  to  attach  some  tolerably  feasible  interpretation. 
Probably  these  men  were  as  yet  sincere  devotees  of 
astrology  and  occult  science,  and  not  the  mere  jugglers 
and  charlatans  their  successors  seem  to  have  become. 
When  men  cannot  make  out  the  purpose  of  God 
regarding  the  future  of  the  race,  it  is  not  wonderful 
that  they  should  endeavour  to  catch  the  faintest,  most 
broken  echo  of  His  voice  to  the  world,  wherever  they 
can  find  it.  Now  there  is  a  wide  region,  a  borderland 
between  the  two  worlds  of  spirit  and  of  matter,  in 
which  are  found  a  great  many  mysterious  phenomena 
which  cannot  be  explained  by  any  known  laws  of 
nature,  and  through  which  men  fancy  they  get  nearer 
to  the  spiritual  world.  There  are  many  singular  and 
startling  appearances,  coincidences,  forebodings,  pre- 
monitions which  men  have  always  been  attracted 
towards,  and  which  they  have  considered  as  open 
ways  of  communication  between  God  and  man.  There 
are  dreams,  visions,  ^strange  apprehensions,  freaks  of 
memory,  and  other  mental  phenomena,  which,  when 
all  classed  together,  assorted,  and  skilfully  applied  to 
the  reading  of  the  future,  once  formed  quite  a  science 
by  itself.  When  men  have  no  word  from  God  to 
depend  upon,  no  knowledge  at  all  of  where  either 
the  race  or  individuals  are  going  to,  they  will  eagerly 
grasp  at  anything  that  even  seems  to  shed  a  ray  of 
light  on  their  future.  We  for  the  most  part  make 
light  of  that  whole  category  of  phenomena,  because 
we  have  a  more  sure  word  of  prophecy  by  which,  as 
with  a  light  in  a  dark  place,  we  can  tell  where  our 
next  step  should  be,  and  what  the  end  shall  be. 
But  invariably  in  heathen  countries,  where  no  guiding 
Spirit  of  God  was  believed  in,  and  where  the  absence 
of  His  revealed  will  left   numberless   points   of  duty 


364  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

doubtful  and  all  the  future  dark,  there  existed  in  lieu 
of  this  a  class  of  persons  who,  under  one  name  or 
other,  undertook  to  satisfy  the  craving  of  men  to  see 
into  the  future,  to  forewarn  them  of  danger,  and 
advise  them  regarding  matters  of  conduct  and  affairs 
of  state. 

At  various  points  of  the  history  of  God's  revelation 
these  professors  of  occult  science  appear.  In  each  case 
a  profound  impression  is  made  by  the  superior  wisdom 
or  power  displayed  by  the  "  wise  men  "  of  God.  But 
in  reading  the  accounts  we  have  of  these  collisions 
between  the  wisdom  of  God  and  that  of  the  magicians, 
a  slight  feeling  of  uneasiness  sometimes  enters  the 
mind.  You  may  feel  that  these  wonders  of  Joseph, 
Moses,  and  Daniel  have  a  romantic  air  about  them, 
and  you  feel,  perhaps,  a  slight  scruple  in  granting  that 
God  would  lend  Himself  to  such  displays — displays 
so  completely  out  of  date  in  our  day.  But  we  are  to 
consider  not  only  that  there  is  nothing  of  the  kind 
more  certain  than  that  dreams  do  sometimes  even  now 
impart  most  significant  warning  to  men ;  but,  also, 
that  the  time  in  which  Joseph  lived  was  the  childhood 
of  the  world,  when  God  had  neither  spoken  much  to 
men,  nor  could  speak  much,  because  as  yet  they  had 
not  learned  His  language,  but  were  only  being  slowly 
taught  it  by  signs  suited  to  their  capacity.  If  these 
men  were  to  recti  \'c  ny  knowledge  beyond  what  their 
own  unaided  efforts  could  attain,  they  must  be  taught 
in  a  language  they  understood.  They  could  not  be 
dealt  with  as  if  they  had  already  attained  a  knowledge 
and  a  capacity  which  could  only-  be  theirs  many 
centuries  after ;  they  must  be  dealt  with  by  signs  and 
wonders  which  had  perhaps  little  moral  teaching  in 
them,  but  yet  gave  evidence  of  God's  nearness   and 


Gen.  xli.]  PHARAOH'S  DREAMS.  365 

power  such  as  they  could  and  did  understand.  God 
thus  stretched  out  His  hand  to  men  in  the  darkness, 
and  let  them  feel  His  strength  before  they  could  look 
on  His  face  and  understand  His  nature. 

It  is  the  existence  at  the  court  of  Pharaoh  of  this 
'highly  respected  class  of  dream-interpreters  and  wise 
men,  which  lends  significance  to  the  conduct  of  Joseph 
when  summoned  into  the  royal  presence.    Such  wisdom 
as  he  displayed  in  reading  Pharaoh's  visions  was  looked 
upon  as  attainable  by  means  within  the  reach  of  any 
man  who  had  sufficient  faculty  for  the  science.     And 
the  first  idea  in  the  minds  of  the  courtiers  would  pro- 
bably have  been,   had  Joseph   not  solemnly  protested 
against  it,  that  he  was  an  adept  where  they  were  appren- 
tices and  bunglers,  and  that  his  success  was  due  purely 
to  professional  skill.     This  was  of  course  perfectly  well 
known  to  Joseph,  who  for  a  number  of  years  had  been 
familiar   with    the    ideas    prevalent    at    the    court    of 
Pharaoh ;    and  he  might  have  argued  that  there  could 
be  no  great  harm  in  at  least  effecting  his  deliverance 
from  an  unjust  imprisonment  by  allowing  Pharaoh  to 
suppose  that    it  was  to  him  he  was  indebted  for    the 
interpretation  of  his  dreams.      But  his  first   word    to 
Pharaoh  is  a  self-renouncing  exclamation  :  "  Not  in  me  : 
God  shall  give  Pharaoh  an    answer  of  peace."     Two 
years  had  elapsed  since  anything  had  occurred  which 
looked  the  least  like  the  fulfilment  of  his  own  dreams, 
or  gave  him  any  hope  of  release  from  prison  ;  and  now, 
when  measuring  himself  with  these  courtiers  and  feeling 
able  to  take  his  place  with  the  best  of  them,  getting 
again  a  breath  of  free  air  and  feeling  once  more  the 
charm  of  life,   and   having   an   opening  set  before   his 
young  ambition,  being  so  suddenly  transferred  from  a 
place  where  his  very  existence  seemed  to  be  forgotten 


366  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

to  a  place  where  Pharaoh  himself  and  all  his  court 
eyed  him  with  the  intensest  interest  and  anxiety,  it  is 
significant  that  he  should  appear  regardless  of  his  own 
fate,  but  jealously  careful  of  the  glory  of  God.  Con- 
sidering how  jealous  men  commonly  are  of  their  own 
reputation,  and  how  impatiently  eager  to  receive  all  the 
credit  that  is  due  to  them  for  their  own  share  in  any 
good  that  is  doing,  and  considering  of  what  essential 
importance  it  seemed  that  Joseph  should  seize  this 
opportunity  of  providing  for  his  own  safety  and 
advancement,  and  should  use  this  as  the  tide  in  his 
affairs  that  led  to  fortune,  his  words  and  bearing 
before  Pharaoh  undoubtedly  disclose  a  deeply  in- 
wrought fidelity  to  God,  and  a  magnanimous  patience 
regarding  his  own  personal  interests. 

For  it  is  extremely  unlikely  that  in  proposing  to 
Pharaoh  to  set  a  man  over  this  important  business 
of  collecting  corn  to  last  through  the  years  of  famine,  it 
presented  itself  to  Joseph  as  a  conceivable  result  that 
he  should  be  the  person  appointed — he  a  Hebrew,  a 
slave,  a  prisoner,  cleaned  but  for  the  nonce,  could  not 
suppose  that  Pharaoh  would  pass  over  all  those  tried 
officers  and  ministers  of  state  around  him  and  fix  upon 
a  youth  who  was  wholly  untried,  and  who  might,  by 
his  different  race  and  religion,  prove  obnoxious  to  the 
people.  Joseph  may  have  expected  to  make  interest 
enough  with  Pharaoh  to  secure  his  freedom,  and 
possibly  some  subordinate  berth  where  he  could  hope- 
fully begin  the  world  again  ;  but  his  only  allusion  to 
himself  is  of  a  depreciatory  kind,  while  his  reference 
to  God  is  marked  with  a  profound  conviction  that  this 
is  God's  doing,  and  that  to  Him  is  due  whatever  is  due. 
Well  may  the  Hebrew  race  be  proud  of  those  men  like 
Joseph  and  Daniel,  who  stood  in  the  presence  of  foreign 


Gen.xli.]  FHARAOirS  DREAMS.  367 

monarchs  in  a  spirit  of  perfect  fidelity  to  Cod,  com- 
manding the  respect  of  all,  and  clothed  with  the  dignity 
and  simplicity  which  that  fidelity  imparted.  It  matters 
not  to  Joseph  that  there  may  perhaps  be  none  i^i  that 
land  who  can  appreciate  his  fidelity  to  God  or  under- 
stand his  motive.  It  matters  not  what  he  may  lose  by 
it,  or  what  he  could  gain  by  falling  in  with  the  notions 
of  those  around  him.  He  himself  knows  the  real  state 
of  the  case,  and  will  not  act  untruly  to  his  God,  even 
though  for  years  he  seems  to  have  been  forgotten  by 
Him.  With  Daniel  he  says  in  spirit,  "  Let  thy  gifts  be 
to  thyself,  and  give  thy  rewards  to  another.  As  for  me, 
this  secret  is  not  revealed  to  me  for  arjy  wisdom  that  I 
have  more  than  any  living,  but  that  the  interpretation 
may  be  known  to  the  king,  and  that  thou  mayest  know 
the  thoughts  of  thine  heart.  He  that  revealeth  secrets 
maketh  known  to  thee  what  shall  come  to  pass." 
There  is  something  particularly  noble  and  worthy  of 
admiration  in  a  man  thus  standing  alone  and  maintain- 
ing the  fullest  allegiance  to  God,  without  ostentation, 
and  with  a  quiet  dignity  and  naturalness  that  show  he 
has  a  great  fund  of  strength  behind. 

That  we  do  not  misjudge  Joseph's  character  or 
ascribe  to  him  qualities  which  were  invisible  to  his 
contemporaries,  is  apparent  from  the  circumstance  that 
Pharaoh  and  his  advisers,  with  little  or  no  hesitation, 
agreed  that  to  no  man  could  they  more  safely  entrust 
their  country  in  this  emergency.  The  mere  personal 
charm  of  Joseph  might  have  won  over  those  experienced 
advisers  of  the  crown  to  make  compensation  for  his 
imprisonment  by  an  unusually  handsome  reward,  but 
no  mere  attractiveness  of  person  and  manner,  nor  even 
the  unquestionable  guilelcssness  of  his  bearing,  could 
have  induced  them  to  put  such  an  affair  as  this  ir*o 


368  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

his  hands.  Plainly  they  were  impressed  with  Joseph; 
almost  supernaturally  impressed,  and  felt  God  through 
him.  He  stood  before  them  as  one  mysteriously  ap- 
pearing in  their  emergency,'  sent  out  of  unthought-of 
quarters  to  warn  and  save  them.  Happily  there  was  as 
yet  no  jealousy  of  the  God  of  the  Hebrews,  nor  any 
exclusiveness  on  the  part  of  the  chosen  people  :  Pharaoh 
and  Joseph  alike  felt  that  there  was  one  God  over  all 
and  through  all.  And  it  was  Joseph's  self-abnegating 
sympathy  with  the  purposes  of  this  Supreme  God  that 
made  him  a  transparent  medium,  so  that  in  his  presence 
the  Egyptians  felt  themselves  in  the  presence  of  God. 
It  is  so  always.  Influence  in  the  long  run  belongs  to 
those  who  rid  their  minds  of  all  private  aims,  and  get 
close  to  the  great  centre  in  which  all  the  race  meets 
and  is  cared  for.  Men  feel  themselves  safe  with  the 
unselfish,  with  persons  in  whom  they  meet  principle 
justice,  truth,  love,  God.  We  are  unattractive,  useless, 
uninfluential,  just  because  we  are  still  childishly  craving 
a  private  and  selfish  good.  We  know  that  a  life  which 
does  not  pour  itself  freely  into  the  common  stream  of 
public  good  is  lost  in  dry  and  sterile  sands.  We  know 
that  a  life  spent  upon  self  is  contemptible,  barren,  empty, 
yet  how  slowly  do  we  come  to  the  attitude  of  Joseph^ 
who  watched  for  the  fulfilment  of  God's  purposes,  and 
found  his  happiness  in  forwarding  what  God  designed 
for  the  people. 


XXVIII. 

JOSEPH'S  ADMINISTRATION. 

Gen.  xli.  37-57,  and  xlvii.  13-26. 

"  He  made  him  lord  of  his  house,  and  ruler  of  all,  his  substance  :  To 
bind  his  princes  at  his  pleasure;  and  teach  his  senators  wisdom." — 
Psalm,  cv.  21,  22. 

"  "|\  /r  ANY  a  monument  consecrated  to  the  memory 
IVX  of  some  nobleman  gone  to  his  long  home,  who 
during  life  had  held  high  rank  at  the  court  of  Pharaoh, 
is  decorated  with  the  simple  but  laudatory  inscription, 
'His  ancestors  were  unknown  people'" — so  we  are 
told  by  our  most  accurate  informant  regarding  Egyptian 
affairs.  Indeed,  the  tales  we  read  of  adventurers  in 
the  East,  and  the  histories  which  recount  how  some 
dynasties  have  been  founded,  are  sufficient  evidence 
that,  in  other  countries  besides  Egypt,  sudden  elevation 
from  the  lowest  to  the  highest  rank  is  not  so  unusual 
as  amongst  ourselves.  Historians  have  recently  made 
out  that  in  one  period  of  the  history  of  Egypt  there 
are  traces  of  a  kind  of  Semitic  mania,  a  strong  leaning 
towards  Syrian  and  Arabian  customs,  phrases,  and 
persons.  Such  manias  have  occurred  in  most  countries. 
There  was  a  period  in  the  history  of  Rome  when  every- 
thing that  had  a  Greek  flavour  was  admired ;  an  Anglo- 
mania once  affected  a  portion  of  the  French  population, 
and   reciprocally,    French   manners   and   ideas   have  at 

24 


370  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

times  found  a  welcome  among  ourselves.  It  is  also 
clear  that  for  a  time  Lower  Egypt  was  under  the  domi- 
nion of  foreign  rulers  who  were  in  race  more  nearly 
allied  to  Joseph  than  to  the  native  population.  But 
there  is  no  need  that  so  complicated  a  question  as  the 
exact  date  of  this  foreign  domination  be  debated  here, 
for  there  was  that  in  Joseph's  bearing  which  would 
have  commended  him  to  any  sagacious  monarch.  Not 
only  did  the  court  accept  him  as  a  messenger  from  God, 
but  they  could  not  fail  to  recognise  substantial  and 
serviceable  human  qualities  alongside  of  what  was 
mysterious  in  him.  The  ready  apprehension  with  which 
he  appreciated  the  magnitude  of  the  danger,  the  clear- 
sighted promptitude  with  which  he  met  it,  the  resource 
and  quiet  capacity  with  which  he  handled  a  matter 
involving  the  entire  condition  of  Egypt,  showed  them 
that  they  were  in  the  presence  of  a  true  statesman. 
No  doubt  the  confidence  with  which  he  described  the 
best  method  of  dealing  with  the  emergency  was  the 
confidence  of  one  who  was  convinced  he  was  speaking 
for  God.  This  was  the  great  distinction  they  perceived 
between  Joseph  and  ordinary  dream-interpreters.  It 
was  not  guesswork  with  him.  The  same  distinction  is 
always  apparent  between  revelation  and  speculation. 
Revelation  speaks  with  authority;  speculation  gropes 
its  wa}',  and  when  wisest  is  most  diffident.  At  the 
same  time  Pharaoh  was  perfectly  right  in  his  inference: 
"  Forasmuch  as  God  hath  shewed  thee  all  this,  there  is 
none  so  discreet  and  wise  as  thou  art."  He  believed 
that  God  had  chosen  him  to  deal  with  this  matter 
because  he  was  wise  in  heart,  and  he  believed  his 
wisdom  would  remain  because  God  had  chosen  him. 

At   length,   then,  Joseph   saw  the   fulfilment  of  his 
dreams   within  his  reach.     The  coat  of  many  colours 


Gen.xli.37-S7,xlvii.  13-26.]  JOSEPH'S  ADMINISTRATION:    371 

with  which  his  father  had  paid  a  tribute  to  the  princely 
person  and  ways  of  the  boy,  was  now  replaced  by  the 
robe  of  state  and  the  heavy  gold  necklace  which  marked 
him  out  as  second  to  Pharaoh.  Whatever  nerve  and 
self-command  and  humble  dependence  on  God  his 
varied  experience  had  wrought  in  him  were  all  needed 
when  Pharaoh  took  his  hand  and  placed  his  own  ring 
on  it,  thus  transferring  all  his  authority  to  him,  and 
when  turning  from  the  king  he  received  the  acclama- 
tions of  the  court  and  the  people,  bowed  to  by  his 
old  masters,  and  acknowledged  the  superior  of  all  the 
dignitaries  and  potentates  of  Egypt.  Only  once  besides, 
so  far  as  the  Egyptian  inscriptions  have  yet  been 
deciphered,  does  it  appear  that  any  subject  was  raised 
to  be  Regent  or  Viceroy  with  similar  powers.  Joseph 
is,  as  far  as  possible,  naturalised  as  an  Egyptian.  He 
receives  a  name  easier  of  pronunciation  than  his  own,  at 
least  to  Egyptian  tongues — Zaphnath-Paaneah,  which, 
however,  was  perhaps  only  an  official  title  meaning 
"  Governor  of  the  district  of  the  place  of  life,"  the 
name  by  which  one  of  the  Egyptian  counties  or  states 
was  known.  The  king  crowned  his  liberality  and 
completed  the  process  of  naturalisation  by  providing 
him  with  a  wife,  Asenath,  the  daughter  of  Potipherah, 
priest  of  On.  This  city  was  not  far  from  Avaris  or 
Haouar,  where  Joseph's  Pharaoh,  Ra-apepi  II.,  at  this 
time  resided.  The  worship  of  the  sun-god,  Ra,  had  its 
centre  at  On  (or  Heliopolis,  as  it  was  called  by  the 
Greeks),  and  the  priests  of  On  took  precedence  of  all 
Egyptian  priests.  Joseph  was  thus  connected  with  one 
of  the  most  influential  famihes  in  the  land,  and  if  he 
had  any  scruples  about  marrying  into  an  idolatrous 
family,  they  were  too  insignificant  to  influence  his 
conduct,  or  leave  any  trace  in  the  narrative. 


372  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

His  attitude  towards  God  and  his  own  family  was 
disclosed  in  the  names  which  he  gave  to  his  children. 
In  giving  names  which  had  a  meaning  at  all,  and  not 
merely  a  taking  sound,  he  showed  that  he  understood, 
as  well  he  might,  that  every  human  life  has  a  signi- 
ficance and  expresses  some  principle  or  fact.  And  in 
giving  names  which  recorded  his  acknowledgment  of 
God's  goodness,  he  showed  that  prosperity  had  as  little 
influence  as  adversity  to  move  him  from  his  allegiance 
to  the  God  of  his  fathers.  His  first  son  he  called 
Manasseh,  Making  to  forget^  "for  God,"  said  he,  "hath 
made  me  forget  all  my  toil  and  all  my  father's  house  " 
• — not  as  if  he  were  now  so  abundantly  satisfied  in 
Egypt  that  the  thought  of  his  father's  house  was  blotted 
from  his  mind,  but  only  that  in  this  child  the  keen 
longings  he  had  felt  for  kindred  and  home  were  some- 
what alleviated.  He  again  found  an  object  for  his 
strong  family  affection.  The  void  in  his  heart  he  had 
so  long  felt  was  filled  by  the  little  babe.  A  new  home 
was  begun  around  him.  But  this  new  affection  would 
not  weaken,  though  it  would  alter  the  character  of, 
his  love  for  his  father  and  brethren.  The  birth  of  this 
child  would  really  be  a  new  tie  to  the  land  from  which 
he  had  been  stolen.  For,  however  ready  men  are  to 
spend  their  own  life  in  foreign  service,  you  see  them 
wishing  that  their  children  should  spend  their  days 
among  the  scenes  with  which  their  own  childhood 
was  familiar. 

In  the  naming  of  his  second  son  Ephraim  he  re- 
cognises that  God  had  made  him  fruitful  in  the  most 
unlikely  way.  He  does  not  leave  it  to  us  to  interpret 
his  life,  but  records  what  he  himself  saw  in  it.  It  has 
been  said  :  ''  To  get  at  the  truth  of  any  history  is 
good  ;  but  a  man's  own  history — when  he  reads   that 


Gen.xli.37-57>xlvii.  13-26.]  JOSEFITS  ADMINISTRATION.    373 


truly,  .  .  .  and  knows  what  he  is  about  and  has  been 
about,  it  is  a  Bible  to  him."  And  now  that  Joseph, 
from  the  height  he  had  reached,  could  look  back  on 
the  way  by  which  he  had  been  led  to  it,  he  cordially 
approved  of  all  that  God  had  done.  There  was  no 
resentment,  no  murmuring.  He  would  often  find 
himself  looking  back  and  thinking,  Had  I  found  my 
brothers  where  I  thought  they  were,  had  the  pit  not 
been  on  the  caravan-road,  had  the  merchants  not  come 
up  so  opportunely,  had  I  not  been  sold  at  all  or  to 
some  other  master,  had  I  not  been  imprisoned,  or  had 
I  been  put  in  another  ward — had  any  one  of  the  many 
slender  links  in  the  chain  of  my  career  been  absent, 
how  different  might  my  present  state  have  been.  How 
plainly  I  now  see  that  all  those  sad  mishaps  that 
crushed  my  hopes  and  tortured  my  spirit  were  steps 
in  the  only  conceivable  path  to  my  present  position. 

Many  a  man  has  added  his  signature  to  this  acknow- 
ledgment of  Joseph's,  and  confessed  a  providence 
guiding  his  life  and  working  out  good  for  him  through 
injuries  and  sorrows,  as  well  as  through  honours, 
marriages,  births.  As  in  the  heat  of  summer  it  is 
difficult  to  recall  the  sensation  of  winter's  bitter  cold, 
so  the  fruitless  and  barren  periods  of  a  man's  life 
are  sometimes  quite  obliterated  from  his  memory.  God 
has  it  in  His  power  to  raise  a  man  higher  above  the 
level  of  ordinary  happiness  than  ever  he  has  sunk 
below  it ;  and  as  winter  and  spring-time,  when  the 
seed  is  sown,  are  stormy  and  bleak  and  gusty,  so  in 
human  life  seed-time  is  not  bright  as  summer  nor 
cheerful  as  autumn  ;  and  yet  it  is  then,  when  all  tlie 
earth  lies  bare  and  will  yield  us  nothing,  that  the 
precious  seed  is  sown  :  and  when  we  confidently 
commit  our  labour  or  patience  of  to-day  to  God,  the 


374  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

land  of  our  affliction,  now  bare  and  desolate,  will 
certainly  wave  for  us,  as  it  has  waved  for  others,  with 
rich  produce  whitened  to  the  harvest. 

There  is  no  doubt  then  that  Joseph  had  learned 
to  recognise  the  providence  of  God  as  a  most  important 
factor  in  his  life.  And  the  man  who  does  so,  gains 
for  his  character  all  the  strength  and  resolution  that 
come  with  a  capacity  for  waiting.  He  saw,  most 
legibly  written  on  his  own  life,  that  God  is  never 
in  a  hurry.  And  for  the  resolute  adherence  to  his 
seven-years'  policy  such  a  belief  was  most  necessary. 
Nothing,  indeed,  is  said  of  opposition  or  incredulity 
on  the  part  of  the  Egyptians.  But  was  there  ever  a 
policy  of  such  magnitude  carried  out  in  any  country 
without  opposition  or  without  evilly-disposed  persons 
using  it  as  a  weapon  against  its  promoter  ?  No  doubt 
during  these  years  he  had  need  of  all  the  personal 
determination  as  well  as  of  all  the  official  authority  he 
possessed.  And  if,  on  the  whole,  remarkable  success 
attended  his  efforts,  we  must  ascribe  this  partly  to  the 
unchallengeable  justice  of  his  arrangements,  and  partly 
to  the  impression  of  commanding  genius  Joseph  seems 
everywhere  to  have  made.  As  with  his  father  and 
brethren  he  was  felt  to  be  superior,  as  in  Potiphar's 
house  he  was  quickly  recognised,  as  in  the  prison  no 
prison-garb  or  slave-brand  could  disguise  him,  as  in 
the  court  his  superiority  was  instinctively  felt,  so  in 
his  administration  the  people  seem  to  have  believed 
in  him. 

And  if,  on  the  whole  and  in  general,  Joseph  was 
reckoned  a  wise  and  equitable  ruler,  and  even  adored 
as  a  kind  of  saviour  of  the  world,  it  would  be  idle 
in  us  to  canvass  the  wisdom  of  his  administration. 
When   we    have    not    sufficient    historical    material    to 


Gen.  xli  37-57,  xlvii.  13-26.]  JOSEPH'S  ADMINISTRA  TION.    375 

apprehend  the  full  significance  of  any  policy,  it  is  safe 
to  accept  the  judgment  of  men  who  not  only  knew  the 
facts,  but  were  themselves  so  deeply  involved  in  them 
that  they  would  certainly  have  felt  and  expressed 
discontent  had  there  been  ground  for  doing  so.  The 
policy  of  Joseph  was  simply  to  economize  during  the 
seven  years  of  abundance  to  such  an  extent  that 
provision  might  be  made  against  the  seven  years  of 
famine.  He  calculated  that  one-fifth  of  the  produce 
of  years  so  extraordinarily  plenteous  would  serve  for 
the  seven  scarce  years.  This  fifth  he  seems  to  have 
bought  in  the  king's  name  from  the  people,  buying  it, 
no  doubt,  at  the  cheap  rates  of  abundant  years. 
When  the  years  of  famine  came,  the  people  were 
referred  to  Joseph ;  and,  till  their  money  was  gone, 
he  sold  corn  to  them,  probably  not  at  famine  prices. 
Next  he  acquired  their  cattle,  and  finally,  in  exchange 
for  food,  they  yielded  to  him  both  their  lands  and 
their  persons.  So  that  the  result  of  the  whole  was, 
that  the  people  who  would  otherwise  have  perished 
were  preserved,  and  in  return  for  this  preserv'ation 
they  paid  a  tax  or  rent  on  their  farm-lands  to  the 
amount  of  one-fifth  of  their  produce.  The  people 
ceased  to  be  proprietors  of  their  own  farms,  but  they 
were  not  slaves  with  no  interest  in  the  soil,  but  tenants 
sitting  at  easy  rents — a  fair  enough  exchange  for  being 
preserved  in  life.  This  kind  of  taxation  is  eminently 
fair  in  principle,  securing,  as  it  does,  that  the  wealth 
of  the  king  and  government  shall  vary  with  the 
prosperity  of  the  whole  land.  The  chief  difficulty 
that  has  always  been  experienced  in  working  it,  has 
arisen  from  the  necessity  of  leaving  a  good  deal  of 
discretionary  power  in  the  hands  of  the  collectors,  who 
have  generally  been  found  not  slow  to  abuse  this  power. 


376  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

The  only  semblance  of  despotism  in  Joseph's  policy 
is  found  in  the  curious  circumstance  that  he  interfered 
with  the  people's  choice  of  residence,  and  shifted  them 
from  one  end  of  the  land  to  another.  This  may  have 
been  necessary  not  only  as  a  kind  of  seal  on  the  deed 
by  which  the  lands  were  conveyed  to  the  king,  and  as 
a  significant  sign  to  them  that  they  were  mere  tenants, 
but  also  Joseph  probably  saw  that  for  the  interests  of 
the  country,  if  not  of  agricultural  prosperity,  this  shift- 
ing had  become  necessary  for  the  breaking  up  of  illegal 
associations,  nests  of  sedition,  and  sectional  prejudices 
and  enmities  which  were  endangering  the  community.* 
Modern  experience  supplies  us  with  instances  in  which, 
by  such  a  policy,  a  country  might  be  regenerated  and 
a  seven  years'  famine  hailed  as  a  blessing  if,  without 
famishing  the  people,  it  put  them  unconditionally  into 
the  hands  of  an  able,  bold,  and  beneficent  ruler.  And 
this  was  a  policy  which  could  be  much  better  devised 
and  executed  by  a  foreigner  than  by  a  native. 

Egypt's  indebtedness  to  Joseph  was,  in  fact,  two-fold. 
In  the  first  place  he  succeeded  in  doing  what  many 
strong  governments  have  failed  to  do  :  he  enabled  a 
large  population  to  survive  a  long  and  severe  famine. 
Even  with  all  modern  facilities  for  transport  and  for 
making  the  abundance  of  remote  countries  available  for 
times  of  scarcity,  it  has  not  always  been  found  possible 
to  save  our  own  fellow-subjects  from  starvation.  In  a 
prolonged  famine  which  occurred  in  Egypt  during  the 

*  "  It  happened  very  often  that  the  inhabitants  of  one  district  threatened 
an  attack  on  the  occupants  of  another  on  account  of  some  dispute  about 
divine  or  human  questions.  The  hostile  feeMngs  of  the  opponents  not 
unfrequently  broke  out  into  a  hard  struggle,  and  it  required  the  whole 
armed  power  of  the  king  to  extinguish  at  its  first  outburst  the  flaming 
torch  of  war,  kindled  by  domineering  chiefs  of  nomes  or  ambitious 
priests." — Brugscb,  History  of  Egypt  y\,  1 6. 


Gen. xli. 37-57, xlvii  13-26.]  JOSEPIVS  ADMINISTRATION.    377 

middle  ages,  the  inhabitants,  reduced  to  the  unnatural 
habits  which  are  the  most  painful  feature  of  such  times, 
not  only  ate  their  own  dead,  but  kidnapped  the  living 
on  the  streets  of  Cairo  and  consumed  them  in  secret. 
One  of  the  most  touching  memorials  of  the  famine 
with  which  Joseph  had  to  deal  is  found  in  a  sepulchral 
inscription  in  Arabia.  A  flood  of  rain  laid  bare  a  tomb 
in  which  lay  a  woman  having  on  her  person  a  profusion 
of  jewels  which  represented  a  very  large  value.  At  her 
head  stood  a  coffer  filled  with  treasure,  and  a  tablet 
with  this  inscription  :  "  In  Thy  name,  O  God,  the  God 
of  Him3'ar,  I,  Tayar,  the  daughter  of  Dzu  Shefar,  sent 
my  steward  to  Joseph,  and  he  delaying  to  return  to  me, 
I  sent  my  handmaid  with  a  measure  of  silver  to  bring 
me  back  a  measure  of  flour  ;  and  not  bemg  able  to 
procure  it,  I  sent  her  with  a  measure  of  gold ;  and  not 
being  able  to  procure  it,  I  sent  her  with  a  measure  of 
pearls  ;  and  not  being  able  to  procure  it,  I  commanded 
them  to  be  ground  ;  and  finding  no  profit  in  them,  I 
am  shut  up  here."  If  this  inscription  is  genuine — and 
there  seems  no  reason  to  call  it  in  question — it  shows 
that  there  is  no  exaggeration  in  the  statement  of  our 
narrator  that  the  famine  was  very  grievous  in  other 
lands  as  well  as  in  Egypt.  And,  whether  genuine  or 
not,  one  cannot  but  admire  the  grim  humour  of  the 
starving  woman  getting  herself  buried  in  the  jewels 
which  had  suddenly  dropped  to  less  than  the  value 
of  a  loaf  of  bread. 

But  besides  being  indebted  to  Joseph  for  their  pre- 
servation, the  Egyptians  owed  to  him  an  extension  of 
their  influence ;  for,  as  all  the  lands  round  about  be- 
came dependent  on  Egypt  for  provision,  they  must  have 
contracted  a  respect  for  the  Egyptian  administration. 
They  must  also  have  added  greatly  to  Egypt's  wealth 


378  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

and  during  those  years  of  constant  traffic  many  com- 
mercial connections  must  have  been  formed  which  in 
future  years  would  be  of  untold  value  to  Egypt.  But 
above  all,  the  permanent  altera':ions  made  by  Joseph  on 
their  tenure  of  land,  and  on  their  places  of  abode,  may 
have  convinced  the  most  sagacious  of  the  Egyptians 
that  it  was  well  for  them  that  their  money  had  failed, 
and  that  they  had  been  compelled  to  yield  themselves 
unconditionally  into  the  hands  of  this  remarkable  ruler. 
It  is  the  mark  of  a  competent  statesman  that  he  makes 
temporary  distress  the  occasion  for  permanent  benefit ; 
and  from  the  confidence  Joseph  won  with  the  people, 
there  seems  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  permanent 
alterations  he  introduced  were  considered  as  beneficial 
as  certainly  they  were  bold. 

And  for  our  own  spiritual  uses  it  is  this  point  which 
seems  chiefly-  important.  In  Joseph  is  illustrated  the 
principle  that,  in  order  to  the  attainment  of  certain 
blessings,  unconditional  submission  to  God's  delegate 
is  required.  If  we  miss  this,  v.e  miss  a  large  part  of 
what  his  history  exhibits,  and  it  becomes  a  mere  pretty 
story.  The  prominent  idea  in  his  dreams  was  that  he 
was  to  be  worshipped  by  his  brethren.  In  his  exalta- 
tion by  Pharaoh,  the  absolute  authority  given  to  him  is 
again  conspicuous :  "  Without  thee  shall  no  man  lift 
up  hand  or  foot  in  all  the  land  of  Egypt."  And  still 
the  same  autocracy  appears  in  the  fact  that  not  one 
Egyptian  who  was  helpful  to  him  in  this  matter  is 
mentioned ;  and  no  one  has  received  such  exclusive 
possession  of  a  considerable  part  of  Scripture,  so  per- 
sonal and  outstanding  a  place.  All  this  leaves  upon 
the  mind  the  impression  that  Joseph  becomes  a  bene- 
factor, and  in  his  degree  a  saviour,  to  men  by  becoming 
their  absolute   master.     When  this  was  hinted  in  his 


Gen. xli. 37-57, xlvii.  13-26.]  JOSEPH'S  ADMINISTRATIOISr.    379 

dreams  at  first  his  brothers  fiercely  resented  it.  But 
when  they  were  put  to  the  push  by  famine,  both  they 
and  the  Egyptians  recognised  that  he  was  appointed  by 
God  to  be  their  saviour,  while  at  the  same  time  they 
markedly  and  consciously  submitted  themselves  to  him. 
Men  may  always  be  expected  to  recognise  that  he  who 
can  save  them  alive  in  famine  has  a  right  to  order  the 
bounds  of  their  habitation  ;  and  also  that  in  the  hands 
of  one  who,  from  disinterested  motives,  has  saved  them, 
they  are  likely  to  be  quite  as  safe  as  in  their  own.  And 
if  we  are  all  quite  sure  of  this,  that  men  of  great 
political  sagacity  can  regulate  our  affairs  with  tenfold 
the  judgment  and  success  that  we  ourselves  could 
achieve,  we  cannot  wonder  that  in  matters  still  higher, 
and  for  which  we  are  notoriously  incompetent,  there 
should  be  One  into  whose  hands  it  is  well  to  commit 
ourselves — One  whose  judgment  is  not  warped  by  the 
prejudiciss  which  blind  all  mere  natives  of  this  world, 
but  who,  separate  from  sinners  yet  naturalised  among 
us,  can  both  detect  and  rectify  everything  in  our  con- 
dition which  is  less  than  perfect.  If  there  are  certainly 
many  cases  in  which  explanations  are  out  of  the  ques- 
tion, and  in  which  the  governed,  if  they  are  wise,  will 
yield  themselves  to  a  trusted  authority,  and  leave  it 
to  time  and  results  to  justify  his  measures,  any  one,  I 
think,  who  anxiously  considers  our  spiritual  condition 
must  see  that  here  too  obedience  is  for  us  the  greater 
part  of  wisdom,  and  that,  after  all  speculation  and  efforts 
at  sufficing  investigation,  we  can  still  do  no  better  than 
yield  ourselves  absolutely  to  Jesus  Christ.  He  alone 
understands  our  whole  position ;  He  alone  speaks  with 
the  authority  that  commands  confidence,  because  it 
is  felt  to  be  the  authority  of  the  truth.  We  feel  the 
present  pressure  of  famine;  we  have  discernment  enough, 


38o  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

some  of  us,  to  know  we  are  in  danger,  but  we  cannot 
penetrate  deeply  either  into  the  cause  or  the  possible 
consequences  of  our  present  state.  But  Christ— if 
we  may  continue  the  fxgure — legislates  with  a  breadth 
of  administrative  capacity  which  includes  not  only  our 
present  distress  but  our  future  condition,  and,  with  the 
boldness  of  one  who  is  master  of  the  whole  case,  requires 
that  we  put  ourselves  wholly  into  His  hand.  He  takes 
the  responsibility  of  all  the  changes  we  make  in  obedi- 
ence to  Him,  and  proposes  so  to  relieve  us  that  the 
relief  shall  be  permanent,  and  that  the  very  emergency 
which  has  thrown  us  upon  His  help  shall  be  the  occasion 
of  our  transference  not  merely  out  of  the  present  evil, 
but  into  the  best  possible  form  of  human  life. 

From  this  chapter,  then,  in  the  history  of  Joseph, 
we  may  reasonably  take  occasion  to  remind  ourselves, 
first,  that  in  all  things  pertaining  to  God  unconditional 
submission  to  Christ  is  necessarily  required  of  us. 
Apart  from  Christ  we  cannot  tell  what  are  the  necessary 
elements  of  a  permanently  happy  state ;  nor,  indeed, 
even  whether  there  is  any  such  state  awaiting  us.  There 
is  a  great  deal  of  truth  in  what  is  urged  by  unbelievers 
to  the  effect  that  spiritual  matters  are  in  great  measure 
beyond  our  cognizance,  and  that  many  of  our  religious 
phrases  are  but,  as  it  were,  thrown  out  in  the  direction 
of  a  truth  but  do  not  perfectly  represent  it.  No  doubt 
we  are  in  a  provisional  state,  in  which  we  are  not  in 
direct  contact  with  the  absolute  truth,  nor  in  a  final 
attitude  of  mind  towards  it ;  and  certain  representations 
of  things  given  in  the  Word  of  God  may  seem  to  us  not 
to  cover  the  whole  truth.  But  this  only  compels  the 
conclusion  that  for  us  Christ  is  the  way,  the  truth,  and 
the  life.  To  probe  existence  to  the  bottom  is  plainly 
not  in  our  power.     To  say  precisely  what  God  is,  and 


Gen.xli.  37-57,  xlvii.  13-26.]    JOSEPH'S  ADMINISTRA  TION.    381 

how  we  are  to  carry  ourselves  towards  Him,  is  possible 
only  to  him  who  has  been  with  God  and  is  God.  To 
submit  to  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  and  to  live  under  those 
influences  and  views  which  formed  His  life,  is  the  only 
method  that  promises  deliverance  from  that  moral 
condition  which  makes  spiritual  vision  impossible. 

We  may  remind  ourselves,  secondly,  that  this  sub- 
mission to  Christ  should  be  consistently  adhered  to  in 
connection  with  those  outward  occurrences  in  our  life 
which  give  us  opportunity  of  enlarging  our  spiritual 
capacity.  There  can  be  little  doubt  that  there  would 
be  presented  to  Joseph  many  a  plan  for  the  better 
administration  of  this  whole  matter,  and  many  a  petition 
from  individuals  craving  exemption  from  the  seemingly 
arbitrary  and  certainly  painful  and  troublesome  edict 
regulating  change  of  residence.  Many  a  man  would 
think  himself  much  wiser  than  the  minister  of  Pharaoh 
in  whom  was  the  Spirit  of  God.  When  we  act  in  a 
similar  manner,  and  take  upon  us  to  specify  with  pre- 
cision the  changes  we  should  like  to  see  in  our  condition, 
and  the  methods  by  which  these  changes  might  best 
be  accomplished,  we  commonly  manifest  our  own  in- 
competence. The  changes  which  the  strong  hand  of 
Providence  enforces,  the  dislocation  which  our  life 
suffers  from  some  irresistible  blow,  the  necessity  laid 
upon  us  to  begin  life  again  and  on  apparently  disadvan- 
tageous terms,  are  naturally  resented ;  but  these  things 
being  certainly  the  result  of  some  unguardedness, 
improvidence,  or  weakness  in  our  past  state,  are 
necessarily  the  means  most  appropriate  for  disclosing 
to  us  these  elements  of  calamity  and  for  securing  our 
permanent  welfare.  We  rebel  against  such  perilous 
and  sweeping  revolutions  as  the  basing  of  our  life  on 
a  new  foundation  demands ;  we  would  disregard   the 


3S2  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

appointments  of  Providence  if  we  could  ;  but  both  our 
voluntary  consent  to  the  authority  of  Christ  and  the 
impossibility  of  resisting  His  providential  arrangements, 
prevent  us  from  refusing  to  fall  in  with  them,  however 
needless  and  tyrannical  they  seem,  and  however  little 
we  perceive  that  they  are  intended  to  accomplish  our 
permanent  well-being.  And  it  is  in  after  years,  when 
the  pain  of  severance  from  old  friends  and  habits  is 
healed,  and  when  the  discomfort  of  adapting  ourselves 
to  a  new  kind  of  life  is  replaced  by  peaceful  and  docile 
resignation  to  new  conditions,  that  we  reach  the  clear 
perception  that  the  changes  we  resented  have  in  point 
of  fact  rendered  harmless  the  seeds  of  fresh  disaster, 
and  rescued  us  from  the  results  of  long  bad  government. 
He  who  has  most  keenly  felt  the  hardship  of  being 
diverted  from  his  original  course  in  life,  will  in  after  life 
tell  you  that  had  he  been  allowed  to  hold  his  own  land, 
and  remain  his  own  master  in  his  old  loved  abode, 
he  would  have  lapsed  into  a  condition  from  which 
no  worthy  harvest  could  be  expected.  If  a  man  only 
wishes  that  his  own  conceptions  of  prosperity  be 
reahsed,  then  let  him  keep  his  land  in  his  own  hand 
and  work  his  material  irrespective  of  God's  demands ; 
for  certainly  if  he  yields  himself  to  God,  his  own  ideas 
of  prosperity  will  not  be  realised.  But  if  he  suspects 
that  God  may  have  a  more  liberal  conception  of 
prosperity  and  may  understand  better  than  he  what  is 
eternally  beneficial,  let  him  commit  himself  and  all  his 
material  of  prosperity  without  doubting  into  God's  hand, 
and  let  him  greedily  obey  all  God's  precepts;  for  in 
neglecting  one  of  these,  he  so  far  neglects  and  misses 
what  God  would  have  him  enter  into. 


XXIX. 

VISITS  OF  JOSEPH'S  BRETHREN. 

Gen.  xlii.-xliv. 

*•  Fear  not  :  for  am  I  in  the  place  of  God  ?     But  as  for  you,  ye 
thought  evil  against  me;  but  God  meant  it  unto  good."— Gen.  1.  19,  20. 

THE  purpose  of  God  to  bring  Israel  into  Egypt 
was  accomplished  by  the  unconscious  agency  of 
Joseph's  natural  affection  for  his  kindred.  Tenderness 
towards  home  is  usually  increased  by  residence  in  a 
foreign  land;  for  absence,  like  a  little  death,  sheds  a 
halo  round  those  separated  from  us.  But  Joseph  could 
not  as  yet  either  re-visit  his  old  home  or  invite  his 
father's  family  into  Egypt.  Even,  indeed,  when  his 
brothers  first  appeared  before  him,  he  seems  to  have 
had  no  immediate  intention  of  inviting  them  as  a  family 
to  settle  in  the  country  of  his  adoption,  or  even  to  visit 
it.  If  he  had  cherished  any  such  purpose  or  desire  he 
might  have  sent  down  wagons  at  once,  as  he  at  last 
did,  to  bring  his  father's  household  out  of  Canaan. 
Why,  then,  did  he  proceed  so  cautiously?  Whence 
this  mystery,  and  disguise,  and  circuitous  compassing 
of  his  end?  What  intervened  between  the  first  and 
last  visit  of  his  brethren  to  make  it  seem  advisable  to 
disclose  himself  and  invite  them  ?  Manifestly  there 
had  intervened  enough  to  give  Joseph  insight  into  the 
state  of  mind  his  brethren  were  in,  enough  to  satisfy 


384  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

him  they  were  not  the  men  they  had  been,  and  that  it 
was  safe  to  ask  them  and  would  be  pleasant  to  have 
them  with  him  in  Egypt.  Fully  alive  to  the  elements 
of  disorder  and  violence  that  once  existed  among  them, 
and  having  had  no  opportunity  of  ascertaining  whether 
they  were  now  altered,  there  was  no  course  open  but 
that  which  he  adopted  of  endeavouring  in  some  un- 
observed way  to  discover  whether  twenty  years  had 
wrought  any  change  in  them. 

For  effecting  this  object  he  fell  on  the  expedient  of 
imprisoning  them,  on  pretence  of  their  being  spies. 
This  served  the  double  purpose  of  detaining  them  until 
he  should  have  made  up  his  mind  as  to  the  best  means 
of  dealing  with  them,  and  of  securing  their  retention 
under  his  eye  until  some  display  of  character  might 
sufficiently  certify  him  of  their  state  of  mind.  Possibly 
he  adopted  this  expedient  also  because  it  was  likely 
deeply  to  move  them,  so  that  they  might  be  expected 
to  exhibit  not  such  superficial  feelings  as  might  have 
been  elicited  had  he  set  them  down  to  a  banquet  and 
entered  into  conversation  with  them  over  their  wine, 
but  such  as  men  are  surprised  to  find  in  themselves, 
and  know  nothing  of  in  their  lighter  hours.  Joseph 
was,  of  course,  well  aware  that  in  the  analysis  of  cha- 
racter the  most  potent  elements  are  only  brought  into 
clear  view  when  the  test  of  severe  trouble  is  applied, 
and  when  men  are  thrown  out  of  all  conventional  modes 
of  thinking  and  speaking. 

The  display  of  character  which  Joseph  awaited  he 
speedily  obtained.  For  so  new  an  experience  to  these 
free  dwellers  in  tents  as  imprisonment  under  grim 
Egyptian  guards  worked  wonders  in  them.  Men  who 
have  experienced  such  treatment  aver  that  nothing  more 
effectually  tames  and  breaks  the  spirit :  it  is  not  the 


Gen.xlii.-xliv.]     VISITS  OF  JOSEPH'S  BRETHREN.  385 

being  confined  for  a  definite  time  with  the  certainty  of 
release  in  the  end,  but  the  being  shut  up  at  the  caprice 
of  another  on  a  false  and  absurd  accusation  ;  the  being 
cooped  up  at  the  will  of  a  stranger  in  a  foreign  country, 
uncertain  and  hopeless  of  release.  To  Joseph's  brethren 
so  sudden  and  great  a  calamity  seemed  explicable  only 
on  the  theory  that  it  was  retribution  for  the  great  crime 
of  their  life.  The  uneasy  feeling  which  each  of  them 
had  hidden  in  his  own  conscience,  and  which  the  lapse 
of  twenty  years  had  not  materially  alleviated,  finds 
expression:  "And  they  said  one  to  another.  We  are 
verily  guilty  concerning  our  brother,  in  that  we  saw 
the  anguish  of  his  soul,  when  he  besought  us,  and  we 
would  not  hear ;  therefore  is  this  distress  come  upon 
us."  The  similarity  of  their  position  to  that  in  which 
they  had  placed  their  brother  stimulates  and  assists 
their  conscience.  Joseph,  in  the  anguish  of  his  soul, 
had  protested  his  innocence,  but  they  had  not  listened  ; 
and  now  their  own  protestations  are  treated  as  idle 
wind  by  this  Egyptian,  Their  own  feelings,  represent- 
ing to  them  what  they  had  caused  Joseph  to  suffer,  stir 
a  keener  sense  of  their  guilt  than  they  seem  ever  before 
to  have  reached.  Under  this  new  light  they  see  their 
sin  more  clearly,  and  are  humbled  by  the  distress  into 
which  it  has  brought  them. 

When  Joseph  sees  this,  his  heart  warms  to  them. 
He  may  not  yet  be  quite  sure  of  them.  A  prison- 
repentance  is  perhaps  scarcely  to  be  trusted.  He  sees 
they  would  for  the  moment  deal  differently  with  him 
had  they  the  opportunity,  and  would  welcome  no  one 
more  heartily  than  himself,  whose  coming  among  them 
had  once  so  exasperated  them.  Himself  keen  in  his 
affections,  he  is  deeply  moved,  and  his  eyes  fill  with  tears 
as  he  witnesses  their  emotion  and  grief  on  his  account. 

25 


3S6  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

Fain  would  he  relieve  them  from  their  remorse  and 
apprehension — why,  then,  does  he  forbear?  Why  does 
he  not  at  this  juncture  disclose  himself?  It  has  been 
satisfactorily  proved  that  his  brethren  counted  their 
sale  of  him  the  great  crime  of  their  life.  Their  im- 
prisonment has  elicited  evidence  that  that  crime  had 
taken  in  their  conscience  the  capital  place,  the  place 
which  a  man  finds  some  one  sin  or  series  of  sins  will 
take,  to  follow  him  with  its  appropriate  curse,  and 
hang  over  his  future  like  a  cloud — a  sin  of  which  he 
thinks  when  any  strange  thing  happens  to  him,  and  to 
which  he  traces  all  disaster — a  sin  so  iniquitous  that 
it  seems  capable  of  producing  any  results  however 
grievous,  and  to  which  he  has  so  given  himself  that  his 
life  seems  to  be  concentrated  there,  and  he  cannot  but 
connect  with  it  all  the  greater  ills  that  happen  to  him. 
Was  not  this,  then,  security  enough  that  they  would 
never  again  perpetrate  a  crime  of  like  atrocity  ?  Every 
man  who  has  almost  at  all  observed  the  history  of  sin 
in  himself,  v.'ill  say  that  most  certainly  it  was  quite 
insufficient  security  against  their  ever  again  doing  the 
like.  Evidence  that  a  man  is  conscious  of  his  sin,  and, 
while  suffering  from  its  consequences,  feels  deeply  its 
guilt,  is  not  evidence  that  his  character  is  altered. 

And  because  we  believe  men  so  much  more  readily 
than  God,  and  think  that  they  do  not  require,  for 
form's  sake,  such  needless  pledges  of  a  changed 
character  as  God  seems  to  demand,  it  is  worth  observ- 
ing that  Joseph,  moved  as  he  was  even  to  tears,  felt 
that  common  prudence  forbade  him  to  commit  himself 
to  his  brethren  without  further  evidence  of  their 
disposition.  They  had  distinctly  acknowledged  their 
guilt,  and  in  his  hearing  had  admitted  that  the  great 
calamity  that  had  befallen  them  was  no  more  than  they 


Gen.  xlii.-xliv.]     VISITS  OF  JOSEPIVS  BRETHREN.  3S7 

deserved  ;  yet  Joseph,  judging  merely  as  an  intelligent 
man  who  had  worldly  interests  depending  on  his  judg- 
ment, could  not  discern  enough  here  to  justify  him  in 
supposing  that  his  brethren  were  changed  men.  And 
it  might  sometimes  serve  to  expose  the  insufficiency 
of  our  repentance  were  clear-seeing  men  the  judges 
of  it,  and  did  they  express  their  opinion  of  its  trust- 
worthiness. We  may  think  that  God  is  needlessly 
exacting  when  He  requires  evidence  not  only  of  a 
changed  mind  about  past  sin,  but  also  of  such  a  mind 
being  now  in  us  as  will  preserve  us  from  future  sin ; 
but  the  truth  is,  that  no  man  whose  common  worldly 
interests  were  at  stake  would  commit  himself  to  us  on  any 
less  evidence.  God,  then,  meaning  to  bring  the  house 
of  Israel  into  Egypt  in  order  to  make  progress  in  the 
Divine  education  He  was  giving  to  them,  could  not  in- 
troduce them  into  that  land  in  a  state  of  mind  which  would 
negative  all  the  discipline  they  were  there  to  receive. 

These  men  then  had  to  give  evidence  that  they  not 
only  saw,  and  in  some  sense  repented  of,  their  sin,  but 
also  that  they  had  got  rid  of  the  evil  passion  which  had 
led  to  it.  This  is  what  God  means  by  repentance. 
Our  sins  are  in  general  not  so  microscopic  that  it 
requires  very  keen  spiritual  discernment  to  perceive 
them.  But  to  be  quite  aware  of  our  sin,  and  to 
acknowledge  it,  is  not  to  repent  of  it.  Everything 
falls  short  of  thorough  repentance  which  does  not 
prevent  us  from  committing  the  sin  anew.  We  do  not 
so  much  desire  to  be  accurately  informed  about  our 
past  sins,  and  to  get  right  views  of  our  past  selves  ; 
we  wish  to  be  no  longer  sinners,  we  wish  to  pass 
through  some  process  by  which  we  may  be  separated 
from  that  in  us  which  has  led  us  into  sin.  Such  a 
process  there  is,  for  these  men  passed  through  it. 


388  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

The  test  which  revealed  the  thoroughness  of  his 
brothers'  repentance  was  unintentionally  applied  by 
Joseph.  When  he  hid  his  cup  in  Benjamin's  sack, 
all  that  he  intended  was  to  furnish  a  pretext  for  de- 
taining Benjamin,  and  so  gratifying  his  own  affection. 
But,  to  his  astonishment,  his  trick  effected  far  more 
than  he  intended  ;  for  the  brothers,  recognising  now 
their  brotherhood,  circled  round  Benjamin,  and,  to  a 
man,  resolved  to  go  back  with  him  to  Egypt.  We 
cannot  argue  from  this  that  Joseph  had  misappre- 
hended the  state  of  mind  in  which  his  brothers  were, 
and  in  his  judgment  of  them  had  been  either  too 
timorous  or  too  severe  ;  nor  need  we  suppose  that  he 
was  hampered  by  his  relations  to  Pharaoh,  and  there- 
fore unwilling  to  connect  himself  too  closely  with  men 
of  whom  he  might  be  safer  to  be  rid  ;  because  it  was 
this  very  peril  of  Benjamin's  that  matured  their 
brotherly  affection.  They .  themselves  could  not  have 
anticipated  that  they  would  make  such  a  sacrifice  for 
Benjamin.  But  throughout  their  dealings  with  this 
mysterious  Egyptian,  they  felt  themselves  under  a 
spell,  and  were  being  gradually,  though  perhaps  un- 
consciously, softened,  and  in  order  to  complete  the 
change  passing  upon  them,  they  but  required  some 
such  incident  as  this  of  Benjamin's  arrest.  This 
incident  seemed  by  some  strange  fatahty  to  threaten 
them  with  a  renewed  perpetration  of  the  very  crime 
they  had  committed  against  Rachel's  other  son.  It 
threatened  to  force  them  to  become  again  the  instru- 
ment of  bereaving  their  father  of  his  darling  child, 
and  bringing  about  that  very  calamity  which  they  had 
pledged  themselves  should  never  happen.  It  was  an 
incident,  therefore,  which,  more  than  any  other,  was 
likely  to  call  out  their  family  love. 


Gen.xlii.-xliv.]     VISITS   OF  JOSEPH'S  BRETHREN.  389 

The  scene  lives  in  every  one's  memory.  They 
were  going  gladly  back  to  their  own  country  with  corn 
enough  for  their  children,  proud  of  their  entertainment 
by  the  lord  of  Egypt ;  anticipating  their  father's 
exultation  when  he  heard  how  generously  they  had 
been  treated  and  when  he  saw  Benjamin  safely  re- 
stored, feeling  that  in  bringing  him  back  they  almost 
compensated  for  having  bereaved  him  of  Joseph. 
Simeon  is  revelling  in  the  free  air  that  blew  from 
Canaan  and  brought  with  it  the  scents  of  his  native 
land,  and  breaks  into  the  old  songs  that  the  strait 
confinement  of  his  prison  had  so  long  silenced — all 
cf  them  together  rejoicing  in  a  scarcely  hoped-for 
success ;  when  suddenly,  ere  the  first  elation  is  spent, 
they  are  startled  to  see  the  hasty  approach  of  the 
Egyptian  messenger,  and  to  hear  the  stern  summons 
that  brought  them  to  a  halt,  and  boded  all  ill.  The 
few  words  of  the  just  Egyptian,  and  his  calm,  explicit 
judgment,  "Ye  have  done  evil  in  so  doing,"  pierce 
them  like  a  keen  blade — that  they  should  be  suspected 
of  robbing  one  who  had  dealt  so  generously  with 
them ;  that  all  Israel  should  be  put  to  shame  in  the 
sight  of  the  stranger  !  But  they  begin  to  feel  relief 
as  one  brother  after  another  steps  forward  with  the 
boldness  of  innocence ;  and  as  sack  after  sack  is 
emptied,  shaken,  and  flung  aside,  they  already  eye 
the  steward  with  the  bright  air  of  triumph  ;  when,  as 
the  very  last  sack  is  emptied,  and  as  all  breathlessly 
stand  round,  amid  the  quick  rustle  of  the  corn,  the 
sharp  rattle  of  metal  strikes  on  their  ear,  and  the 
gleam  of  silver  dazzles  their  eyes  as  the  cup  rolls  out 
in  the  sunshine.  This,  then,  is  the  brother  of  whom 
their  father  was  so  careful  that  he  dared  not  suffer 
him  out    of  his    sight !     This    is    the    precious   youth 


390  THE  BOOK  OF  GEXES7S. 

whose  life  was  of  more  value  than  the  lives  of  all  the 
brethren,  and  to  keep  whom  a  few  months  longer  in 
his  father's  sight  Simeon  had  been  left  to  rot  in  a 
dungeon  !  This  is  how  he  repays  the  anxiety  of  the 
family  and  their  love,  and  this  is  how  he  repays  the 
extraordinary  favour  of  Joseph  !  By  one  rash  childish 
act  had  this  fondled  youth,  to  all  appearance,  brought 
upon  the  house  of  Israel  irretrievable  disgrace,  if  not 
complete  extinction.  Had  these  men  been  of  their 
old  temper,  their  knives  had  very  speedily  proved 
that  their  contempt  for  the  deed  was  as  great  as  the 
Egyptian's  ;  by  violence  towards  Benjamin  they  might 
have  cleared  themselves  of  all  suspicion  of  com.plicity ; 
or,  at  the  best,  they  might  have  considered  themselves 
to  be  acting  in  a  fair  and  even  lenient  manner  if  they 
had  surrendered  the  culprit  to  the  steward,  and  once 
again  carried  back  to  their  father  a  tale  of  blood.  But 
they  were  under  the  spell  of  their  old  sin.  In  all 
disaster,  however  innocent  they  now  were,  tiiey  sav/ 
the  retribution  of  their  old  iniquity  ;  they  seem  scarcely 
to  consider  whether  Benjamin  was  innocent  or  guilty, 
but  as  humbled,  God-smitten  men,  "  they  rent  their 
clothes,  and  laded  every  man  his  ass,  and  returned 
to  the  city." 

Thus  Joseph  in  seeking  to  gain  one  brother  found 
eleven — for  now  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  they 
were  very  different  men  from  those  brethren  who  had 
so  heartlessly  sold  into  slavery  their  father's  favourite 
— men  now  with  really  brotherly  feelings,  by  penitence 
and  regard  for  their  father  so  wrought  together  into 
one  family,  that  this  calamity,  intended  to  fall  only 
on  one  of  their  number,  did  in  falling  on  him  fall  on 
them  all.  So  far  from  wishing  now  to  rid  themselves 
of  Rachel's  son  and  their  father's  favourite,  who  had 


Gen.  xlii.-xUv.]     VISITS   OF  JOSEPH'S  BRETHREN^.  391 

been  put  by  their  father  in  so  prominent  a  place  in  his 
afftction,  they  will  not  even  gi.e  him  up  to  suffer  what 
seemed  the  just  punishment  of  his  theft,  do  not  even 
reproach  him  with  having  brought  them  all  into  dis- 
grace and  difficulty,  but,  as  humbled  men  who  knew 
they  had  greater  sins  of  their  own  to  answer  for,  went 
quietly  back  to  Egypt,  determined  to  see  their  younger 
brother  through  his  misfortune  or  to  share  his  bondage 
with  him.  Had  these  men  not  been  thoroughly 
changed,  thoroughly  convinced  that  at  all  costs  up- 
right dealing  and  brotherly  love  should  continue ; 
had  they  not  possessed  that  first  and  last  of  Christian 
virtues,  love  to  their  brother,  then  nothing  could  so 
certainly  have  revealed  their  want  of  it  as  this  apparent 
theft  of  Benjamin's.  It  seemed  in  itself  a  very  likely 
thing  that  a  lad  accustomed  to  plain  modes  of  life,  and 
whose  character  it  was  to  "  ravin  as  a  wolf,"  should, 
when  suddenly  introduced  to  the  gorgeous  Egyptian 
banqueting-house  with  all  its  sumptuous  furnishings, 
have  coveted  some  choice  specimen  of  Egyptian  art, 
to  carry  home  to  his  father  as  proof  that  he  could  not 
only  bring  himself  back  in  safety,  but  scorned  to  come 
back  from  any  expedition  empty-handed.  It  was  not 
unlikely  either  that,  with  his  mother's  own  superstition, 
he  might  have  conceived  the  bold  design  of  robbing 
this  Egyptian,  so  mysterious  and  so  powerful,  accord- 
ing to  his  brothers'  account,  and  of  breaking  that  spell 
which  he  had  thrown  over  them  ;  he  may  thus  have 
conceived  the  idea  of  achieving  for  himself  a  reputation 
in  the  family,  and  of  once  for  all  redeeming  himself 
from  the  somewhat  undignified,  and  to  one  of  his 
spirit  somewhat  uncongenial,  position  of  the  youngest 
of  a  family.  If,  as  is  possible,  he  had  let  any  such 
idea  ooze  out  in  talking  with  his  brethren  as  they  went 


392  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

down  to  Eg3'pt,  and  only  abandoned  it  on  their  in- 
dignant and  urgent  remonstrance,  then  when  the  cup, 
Joseph's  chief  treasure  according  to  his  own  account, 
was  discovered  in  Benjamin's  sack,  the  case  must  have 
looked  sadly  against  him  even  in  the  eyes  of  his 
brethren.  No  protestations  of  innocence  in  a  parti- 
cular instance  avail  much  when  the  character  and 
general  habits  of  the  accused  point  to  guilt.  It  is  quite 
possible,  therefore,  that  the  brethren,  though  willing 
to  believe  Benjamin,  were  yet  not  so  thoroughly  con- 
vinced of  his  innocence  as  they  would  have  desired. 
The  fact  that  they  themselves  had  found  their  money 
returned  in  their  sacks,  made  for  Benjamin  ;  yet  in 
most  cases,  especially  where  circumstances  corroborate 
it,  an  accusation  even  against  the  innocent  takes  imme- 
diate hold  and  cannot  be  summarily  and  at  once  got  rid  of. 
Thus  was  proof  given  that  the  house  of  Israel  was 
nov^^  in  truth  one  family.  The  men  who,  on  very  slight 
instigation,  had  without  compunction  sold  Joseph  to 
a  life  of  slavery,  cannot  now  find  it  in  their  heart  to 
abandon  a  brother  who,  to  all  appearance,  was  worthy 
of  no  better  life  than  that  of  a  slave,  and  who  had 
brought  them  all  into  disgrace  and  danger.  Judah  had 
no  doubt  pledged  himself  to  bring  the  lad  back  without 
scathe  to  his  father,  but  he  had  done  so  without  con- 
templating the  possibility  of  Benjamin  becoming  ame- 
nable to  Egyptian  law.  And  no  one  can  read  the  speech 
of  Judah — one  of  the  most  pathetic  on  record — in 
which  he  replies  to  Joseph's  judgment  that  Benjamin 
alone  should  remain  in  Egypt,  without  perceiving  that 
he  speaks  not  as  one  who  merely  seeks  to  redeem  a 
pledge,  but  as  a  good  son  and  a  good  brother.  He 
speaks,  too,  as  the  mouth-piece  of  the  rest,  and  as  he 
had   taken  the  lead   in  Joseph's  sale,   so  he  does  not 


Gen.xlii.  xliv.]     VISITS   OF  JOSEPH'S  BRETHREN.  393 

shrink  from  standing  forward  and  accepting  the  heavy 
responsibihty  which  may  now  Hght  upon  the  man  who 
represents  these  brethren.  His  former  faults  are  re- 
deemed by  the  courage,  one  may  say  heroism,  he  now 
shows.  And  as  he  spoke,  so  the  rest  felt.  They  could 
not  bring  tliemselves  to  inflict  a  new  sorrow  on  their 
aged  father ;  neither  could  they  bear  to  leave  their 
young  brother  in  the  hands  of  strangers.  The  passions 
which  had  alienated  them  from  one  another,  and  had 
threatened  to  break  up  the  family,  are  subdued.  There 
is  now  discernible  a  common  feeling  that  binds  them 
together,  and  a  common  object  for  which  they  willingly 
sacrifice  themselves.  They  are,  therefore,  now  prepared 
to  pass  into  that  higher  school  to  which  God  called 
them  in  Egypt.  It  mattered  little  what  strong  and 
equitable  laws  they  found  in  the  land  of  their  adoption, 
if  they  had  no  taste  for  upright  living  ;  it  mattered  little 
what  thorough  national  organization  they  would  be 
brought  into  contact  with  in  Egypt,  if  in  point  of  fact 
they  owned  no  common  brotherhood,  and  were  wilHng 
rather  to  live  as  units  and  every  man  for  himself  than 
for  any  common  interest.  But  now  they  were  prepared, 
open  to  teaching,  and  docile. 

To  complete  our  apprehension  of  the  state  of  mind 
into  which  the  brethren  were  brought  by  Joseph's  treat- 
ment of  them,  we  must  take  into  account  the  assurance 
he  gave  them,  when  he  made  himself  known  to  them, 
that  it  was  not  they  but  God  who  had  sent  him  into 
Egypt,  and  that  God  had  done  this  for  the  purpose  of 
preserving  the  whole  house  of  Israel.  At  first  sight 
this  might  seem  to  be  an  injudicious  speech,  calculated 
to  make  the  brethren  think  lightly  of  their  guilt,  and  to 
remove  the  just  impressions  they  now  entertained  of 
the  unbrotherliness  of  their  conduct  to  Joseph.     And  it 


394  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

might  have  been  an  injudicious  speech  to  impenitent 
men ;  but  no  further  view  of  sin  can  hghten  its  heinous- 
ness  to  a  really  penitent  sinner.  Prove  to  him  that  his 
sin  has  become  the  means  of  untold  good,  and  you  only 
humble  him  the  more,  and  more  deeply  convince  him 
that  while  he  was  recklessly  gratifying  himself  and 
sacrificing  others  for  his  own  pleasure,  God  has  been 
mindful  of  others,  and,  pardoning  him,  has  blessed  them. 
God  does  not  need  our  sins  to  work  out  His  good 
intentions,  but  we  give  Him  little  other  material ;  and 
the  discovery  that  through  our  evil  purposes  and  in- 
jurious deeds  God  has  worked  out  His  beneficent  will, 
is  certainly  not  calculated  to  make  us  think  more  lightly 
of  our  sin  or  more  highly  of  ourselves. 

Joseph  in  thus  addressing  his  brethren  did,  in  fact, 
but  add  to  their  feelings  the  tenderness  that  is  in  all 
rehgious  conviction,  and  that  springs  out  of  the  con- 
sciousness that  in  all  our  sin  there  has  been  with  us  a 
holy  and  loving  Father,  mindful  of  His  children.  This 
is  the  final  stage  of  penitence.  The  knowledge  that 
God  has  prevented  our  sin  from  doing  the  harm  it 
might  have  done,  does  relieve  the  bitterness  and  despair 
with  which  we  view  our  life,  but  at  the  same  time  it 
strengthens  the  most  effectual  bulwark  between  us  and 
sin — love  to  a  holy,  over-ruling  God.  This,  therefore, 
may  always  be  safely  said  to  penitents :  Out  of  your 
worst  sin  God  can  bring  good  to  yourself  or  to  others, 
and  good  of  an  apparently  necessary  kind  ;  but  good  of 
a  permanent  kind  can  result  from  your  sin  only  when 
you  have  truly  repented  of  it,  and  sincerely  wish  you 
had  never  done  it.  Once  this  repentance  is  really 
wrought  in  you,  then,  though  your  life  can  never  be  the 
same  as  it  might  have  been  had  you  not  sinned,  it  may 
be,  in  some  respects,  a  more  richly  developed  life,  a  life 


Gen.xlii.-xliv.]     VISITS   OF  JOSEFIPS  BRETHREN.  395 


fuller  of  humility  and  love.  You  can  never  have  what 
you  sold  for  your  sin  ;  but  tlie  poverty  your  sin  has 
brought  ma}''  excite  within  you  thoughts  and  energies 
more  valuable  than  what  you  have  lost,  as  these  men 
lost  a  brother  but  found  a  Saviour.  The  wickedness 
that  lias  often  made  you  bow  your  head  and  mourn  in 
secret,  and  which  is  in  itself  unutterable  shame  and  loss, 
may,  in  God's  hand,  become  food  against  the  day  of 
famine.  You  cannot  ever  have  the  enjo}'ments  which 
are  prssible  only  to  those  whose  conscience  is  laden 
with  no  evil  remembrances,  and  whose  nature,  uncon- 
tracted  and  unwithered  by  familiarity  with  sin,  can  give 
itself  to  enjoyment  with  the  abandonment  and  fearless- 
ness reserved  for  the  innocent.  No  more  at  all  will 
you  have  that  fineness  of  feeling  which  only  ignorance 
of  evil  can  preserve ;  no  more  that  high  and  great 
conscientiousness  which,  once  broken,  is  never  re- 
paired ;  no  more  that  respect  from  other  m.en  which  for 
ever  and  instinctively  departs  from  those  who  have  lost 
self-respect.  But  you  may  have  a  more  intelligent 
sympathy  with  other  men  and  a  keener  pity  for  them  ; 
the  experience  you  have  gathered  too  late  to  save  your- 
self may  put  it  in  your  power  to  be  of  essential  service 
to  others.  You  cannot  win  your  way  back  to  the  happy, 
useful,  evenl3^-developed  life  of  the  comparatively  inno- 
cent, but  the  life  of  the  true-hearted  penitent  is  3'et 
open  to  you.  Every  beat  of  your  heart  now  may  be 
as  if  it  throbbed  against  a  poi3t.med  dagger,  every  duty 
may  shame  you,  every  day  bring  weariness  and  new 
humiliation,  but  let  no  pain  or  discouragement  avail  to 
defraud  you  of  the  good  fruits  of  true  reconciliation  to 
G.d  and  submission  to  His  lifelng  discipline.  See  that 
you  lose  not  both  lives,  the  life  of  the  comparatively 
innocent  and  the  life  of  the  truly  penitent. 


XXX. 

THE  RECONCILIATION. 

Gen.  xlv. 

^'By  faith  Joseph,  when  he  died,  made  mention  of  the  depailing  of 
the  children  of  Israel  ;  and  gave  commandment  concerning  his  bones." 
— Heb.  xi.  22. 

IT  is  generally  by  some  circumstance  or  event  which 
perplexes,  troubles,  or  gladdens  us,  that  new 
thoughts  regarding  conduct  are  presented  to  us,  and 
new  impulses  communicated  to  our  life.  And  the  cir- 
cumstances through  which  Joseph's  brethren  passed 
during  the  famine  not  only  subdued  and  softened  them 
to  a  genuine  family  feeling,  but  elicited  in  Joseph  himself 
a  more  tender  affection  for  them  than  he  seems  at  first 
to  have  cherished.  For  the  first  time  since  his  entrance 
into  Egypt  did  he  feel,  when  Judah  spoke  so  touchingly 
and  effectively,  that  the  family  of  Israel  was  one  ;  and 
that  he  himself  would  be  reprehensible  did  he  make 
further  breaches  in  it  by  carrying  out  his  intention 
of  detaining  Benjamin.  Moved  by  Judah's  pathetic 
appeal,  and  yielding  to  the  generous  impulse  of  the 
moment,  and  being  led  by  a  right  state  of  feeling  to  a 
right  judgment  regarding  duty,  he  claimed  his  brethren 
as  brethren,  and  proposed  that  the  whole  family  be 
brought  into  Egypt. 

The  scene  in  which  the  sacred  writer  describes  the 


Gemxlv.]  THE  RECONCILIATION.  397 

reconciliation  of  Josepii  and  his  brothers  is  one  of  the 
most  touching  on  record  ; — the  long  estrangement  so 
happily  terminated  ;  the  caution,  the  doubts,  the  hesi- 
tation on  Joseph  s  part,  swept  away  at  last  by  the 
resistless  tide  of  long  pent-up  emotion ;  the  surprise 
and  perplexity  of  the  brethren  as  they  dared  now  to 
lift  their  eyes  and  scrutinize  the  face  of  the  governor, 
and  discerned  the  lighter  complexion  of  the  Hebrew, 
the  features  of  the  family  of  Jacob,  the  expression  of 
their  own  brother ;  the  anxiety  with  which  they  wait  to 
know  how  he  means  to  repay  their  crime,  and  the  relief 
with  which  they  hear  that  he  bears  them  no  ill-will — 
everything,  in  short,  conduces  to  render  this  recognition 
of  the  brethren  interesting  and  affecting.  That  Joseph, 
who  had  controlled  his  feeling  in  many  a  trying 
situation,  should  now  have  "wept  aloud,"  needs  no 
explanation.  Tears  always  express  a  mingled  feeling ; 
at  least  the  tears  of  a  man  do.  They  may  express 
grief,  but  it  is  grief  with  some  remorse  in  it,  or  it  is 
grief  passing  into  resignation.  They  may  express  joy, 
but  it  is  joy  born  of  long  sorrow,  the  joy  of  deliverance, 
joy  that  can  now  afford  to  let  the  heart  weep  out  the 
fears  it  has  been  holding  down.  It  is  as  with  a  kind 
of  breaking  of  the  heart,  and  apparent  unmanning  of 
the  man,  that  the  human  soul  takes  possession  of  its 
greatest  treasures  ;  unexpected  success  and  unmerited 
joy  humble  a  man ;  and  as  laughter  expresses  the 
surprise  of  the  intellect,  so  tears  express  the  amazement 
of  the  soul  when  it  is  stormed  suddenly  by  a  great  joy. 
Joseph  had  been  hardening  himself  to  lead  a  solitary 
life  in  Egypt,  and  it  is  with  all  this  strong  self-sufficiency 
breaking  down  within  him  that  he  eyes  his  brethren. 
It  is  his  love  for  them  making  its  way  through  all  his 
ability  to  do  without  them,  and  sweeping  away  as  a 


398  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 


flood  the  bulwarks  he  had  built  round  his  heart, — it 
is  this  that  breaks  him  down  before  them,  a  man  con- 
quered by  his  own  love,  and  unable  to  control  it.  It 
compels  him  to  make  himself  known,  and  to  possess 
himself  of  its  objects,  those  unconscious  brethren.  It 
is  a  signal  instance  of  the  law  by  which  love  brings 
all  the  best  and  holiest  beings  into  contact  with  their 
inferiors,  and,  in  a  sense,  puts  them  in  their  power,  and 
thus  eternally  provides  that  the  superiority  of  those 
that  are  high  in  the  scale  of  being  shall  ever  be  at  the 
service  of  those  who  in  themselves  are  not  so  richly  en- 
dowed. The  higher  any  being  is,  the  more  love  is  in 
him  :  that  is  to  say,  the  higher  he  is,  the  more  surely  is 
he  bound  to  all  who  are  beneath  him.  If  God  is  highest 
of  all,  it  is  because  there  is  in  Him  sufficiency  for  all 
His  creatures,  and  love  to  make  it  universally  available. 
It  is  one  of  our  most  familiar  intellectual  pleasures  to 
see  in  the  experience  of  others,  or  to  read,  a  lucid  and 
moving  account  of  emotions  identical  with  those  which 
have  once  been  our  own.  In  reading  an  account  of 
what  others  have  passed  through,  our  pleasure  is 
derived  mainly  from  two  sources — either  from  our 
being  brought,  by  sympathy  with  them  and  in  imagina- 
tion, into  circumstances  we  ourselves  have  never  been 
placed  in,  and  thus  artificially  enlarging  our  sphere  of 
life,  and  adding  to  our  experience  feelings  which  could 
not  have  been  derived  from  anything  we  ourselves  have 
met  wdth ;  or,  from  our  living  o\er  again,  by  means  of 
their  experience,  a  part  of  our  life  which  had  great 
interest  and  meaning  to  us.  It  may  be  excusable, 
therefore,  if  we  divert  this  narrative  from  its  original 
historical  significance,  and  use  it  as  the  mirror  in  which 
we  may  see  reflected  an  important  passage  or  crisis  in 
our  own  spiritual  history.     For  though  some  may  find 


Gen.xlv.]  THE  RECONCILIATIOIV.  399 

in  it  little  that  reflects  their  own  experience,  others 
cannot  fail  to  be  reminded  of  feelings  with  which  they 
were  very  familiar  when  first  they  were  introduced  to 
Christ,  and  acknowledged  by  Him. 

I.  The  modes  in  which  our  Lord  makes  Himself 
known  to  men  are  various  as  their  lives  and  characters. 
But  frequently  the  forerunning  choice  of  a  sinner  by 
*  Christ  is  discovered  in  such  gradual  and  ill-understood 
dealings  as  Joseph  used  with  those  brethren.  It  is  the 
closing  of  a  net  around  them.  They  do  not  see  what 
is  driving  them  forward,  nor  whither  they  are  being 
driven ;  they  are  anxious  and  ill  at  ease ;  and  not 
comprehending  what  ails  them,  they  make  only  in- 
effectual efforts  for  deliverance.  There  is  no  recognition 
of  the  hand  that  is  guiding  all  this  circuitous  and 
m3^sterious  preparatory  work,  nor  of  the  eye  that 
affectionately  watches  their  perplexity,  nor  are  they 
aware  of  any  friendly  ear  that  catches  each  sigh  in 
which  they  seem  hopelessly  to  resign  themselves  to  the 
relentless  past  from  which  they  cannot  escape.  They 
feel  that  they  are  left  alone  to  make  what  they  can  now 
of  the  life  they  have  chosen  and  made  for  themselves  ; 
that  there  is  floating  behind  and  around  them  a  cloud 
bearing  the  very  essence  exhaled  from  their  past,  and 
ready  to  burst  over  them  ;  a  phantom  that  is  yet  real, 
and  that  belongs  both  to  the  spiritual  and  material 
world,  and  can  follow  them  in  either.  They  seem  to 
be  doomed  men — men  who  are  never  at  all  to  get  dis- 
entangled from  their  old  sin. 

If  any  one  is  in  this  baffled  and  heartless  condition, 
fearing  even  good  lest  it  turn  to  evil  in  his  hand;  afraid 
to  take  the  money  that  lies  in  his  sack's  mouth,  because 
he  feels  there  is  a  snare  in  it ;  if  any  one  is  sensible 
tliat  life  has  become  unmanageable  in  his  hands,  and 


400  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

that  he  is  being  drawn  on  by  an  unseen  power  which 
he  does  not  understand,  then  let  him  consider  in  the 
scene  before  us  how  such  a  condition  ends  or  may  end. 
It  took  many  months  of  doubt,  and  fear,  and  mystery 
to  bring  those  brethren  to  such  a  state  of  mind  as  made 
it  advisable  for  Joseph  to  disclose  himself,  to  scatter 
the  mystery,  and  relieve  them  of  the  unaccountable 
uneasiness  that  possessed  their  minds.  And  your  per- 
plexity will  not  be  allowed  to  last  longer  than  it  is 
needful.  But  it  is  often  needful  that  we  should  first 
learn  that  in  sinning  we  have  introduced  into  our  life 
a  bafQing,  perplexing  element,  have  brought  our  life 
into  connection  with  inscrutable  laws  which  we  cannot 
control,  and  which  w^e  feel  may  at  any  moment  destroy 
us  utterl3^  It  is  not  from  carelessness  on  Christ's  part 
that  His  people  are  not  always  and  from  the  first 
rejoicing  in- the  assurance  and  appreciation  of  His  love. 
It  is  His  carefulness  which  lays  a  restraining  hand  on 
the  ardour  of  His  affection.  We  see  that  this  burst  of 
tears  on  Joseph's  part  was  genuine,  we  have  no  sus- 
picion that  he  was  feigning  an  emotion  he  did  not  feel ; 
we  believe  that  his  affection  at  last  could  not  be  re- 
strained, that  he  was  fairly  overcome, — can  we  not 
trust  Christ  for  as  genuine  a  love,  and  believe  that  His 
emotion  is  as  deep  ?  We  are,  in  a  word,  reminded  by 
this  scene,  that  there  is  always  in  Christ  a  greater  love 
seeking  the  friendship  of  the  sinner  than  there  is  in  the 
sinner  seeking  for  Christ.  The  search  of  the  sinner 
for  Christ  is  always  a  dubious,  hesitating,  uncertain 
groping ;  while  on  Christ's  part  there  is  a  clear-seeing, 
affectionate  solicitude  which  lays  joyful  surprises  along 
the  sinner's  path,  and  enjoys  by  anticipation  the  glad- 
ness and  repose  which  are  prepared  for  him  in  the  final 
recos:nition  and  reconcilement. 


Gen.xlv.]  THE   RECONCILIATION.  401 

2.  In  finding  their  brother  again,  those  sons  of  Jacob 
found  also  their  own  better  selves  which  they  had  long 
lost.  They  had  been  living  in  a  he,  unable  to  look  the 
past  in  the  face,  and  so  becoming  more  and  more  false. 
Trying  to  leave  their  sin  behind  them,  they  always 
found  it  rising  in  the  path  before  them,  and  again  they 
h.ad  to  resort  to  some  new  mode  of  laying  this  uneasy 
ghost.  They  turned  aw^ay  from  it,  busied  themselves 
among  other  people,  refused  to  think  of  it,  assumed  all 
kinds  of  disguise,  professed  to  themselves  that  they 
had  done  no  great  wrong ;  but  nothing  gave  them 
deliverance — there  was  their  old  sin  quietly  waiting  for 
them  in  their  tent  door  when  they  went  home  of  an 
evening,  laying  its  hand  on  their  shoulder  in  the  most 
unlooked-for  places,  and  whispering  in  their  ear  at  the 
most  unwelcome  seasons.  A  great  part  of  their  mental 
energy  had  been  spent  in  deleting  this  mark  from  their 
memory,  and  yet  day  by  day  it  resumed  its  supreme 
place  in  their  life,  holding  them  under  arrest  as  they 
secretly  felt,  and  keeping  them  reserved  to  judgment. 

So,  too,  do  many  of  us  live  as  if  yet  we  had  not 
found  the  life  eternal,  the  kind  of  life  that  we  can 
always  go  on  with — rather  as  those  who  are  but  making 
the  best  of  a  life  which  can  never  be  very  valuable, 
nor  ever  perfect.  There  seem  voices  calling  us  back, 
assuring  us  we  must  yet  retrace  our  steps,  that  there 
are  passages  in  our  past  with  which  we  are  not  done, 
that  there  is  an  inevitable  humiliation  and  penitence 
awaiting  us.  It  is  through  that  we  can  alone  get  back 
to  the  good  we  once  saw  and  hoped  for;  there  were 
right  desires  and  resolves  in  us  once,  views  of  a  well- 
spent  life  which  have  been  forgotten  and  pressed  out 
of  remembrance,  but  all  these  rise  again  in  the  presence 
of  Christ.     Reconciled  to   Him  and  claimed  by  Ilim^ 

26 


402  THE  BOOK  OF   GENESIS. 

all  hope  is  renewed  within  us.  If  He  makes  Himself 
known  to  us,  if  He  claims  connection  with  us,  have  we 
not  here  the  promise  of  all  good  ?  If  He,  after  careful 
scrutiny,  after  full  consideration  of  all  the  circumstances, 
bids  us  claim  as  our  brother  Him  to  whom  all  power 
and  glory  are  given,  ought  not  this  to  quicken  w^ithin 
us  everything  that  is  hopeful,  and  ought  it  not  to 
strengthen  us  for  all  frank  acknowledgment  of  the  past 
and  true  humiliation  on  account  of  it  ? 

3.  A  third  suggestion  is  made  by  this  narrative. 
Joseph  commanded  from  his  presence  all  who  might 
be  merely  curious  spectators  of  his  burst  of  feeling,  and 
might,  themselves  unmoved,  criticise  this  new  feature 
of  the  governor's  character.  In  all  love  there  is  a 
similar  reserve.  The  true  friend  of  Christ,  the  man 
who  is  profoundly  conscious  that  between  himself  and 
Christ  there  is  a  bond  unique  and  eternal,  longs  for 
a  time  when  he  may  enjoy  greater  libert}''  in  uttering 
what  he  feels  towards  his  Lord  and  Redeemer,  and 
when,  too,  Christ  Himself  shall  by  telling  and  sufficient 
signs  put  it  for  ever  beyond  doubt  that  this  love  is 
more  than  responded  to.  Words  sufficiently  impas- 
sioned have  indeed  been  put  into  our  lips  by  men  of 
profound  spiritual  feeling,  but  the  feeling  continually 
weighs  upon  us  that  some  more  palpable  mutual  recog- 
nition is  desirable  between  persons  so  vitally  and 
peculiarly  knit  together  as  Christ  and  the  Christian  are. 
Such  recognition,  indubitable  and  reciprocal,  must  one 
day  take  place.  And  when  Christ  Himself  shall  have 
taken  the  initiative,  and  shall  have  caused  us  to  under- 
stand that  we  are  veril}^  the  objects  of  His  love,  and 
shall  have  given  such  expression  to  His  knowledge  of 
us  as  we  cannot  now  receive,  we  on  our  part  shall  be 
able  to  reciprocate,  or  at  least  to  accept,  this  greatest 


Gen.  xlv.]  THE  RECONCILIATION.  403 

of  possessions,  the  brotherly  love  of  the  Son  of  God. 
Meanwhile  this  passage  in  Joseph's  histor}^  may  remind 
us  that  behind  all  sternness  of  expression  there  may 
pulsate  a  tenderness  that  needs  thus  to  disguise  itself; 
and  that  to  those  who  have  not  yet  recognised  Christ, 
He  is  better  than  He  seems.  Those  brethren  no  doubt 
wonder  now  that  even  twenty  years'  alienation  should 
have  so  blinded  them.  The  relaxation  of  the  expression 
from  the  sternness  of  an  Egyptian  governor  to  the 
fondness  of  family  love,  the  voice  heard  now  in  the 
familiar  mother  tongue,  reveal  the  brother ;  and  they 
who  have  shrunk  from  Christ  as  if  He  were  a  cold 
official,  and  who  have  never  lifted  their  eyes  to  scrutinize 
His  face,  are  reminded  that  He  can  so  make  Himself 
known  to  them  that  not  all  the  wealth  of  Egypt  would 
purchase  from  them  one  of  the  assurances  they  have 
received  from  Him. 

The  same  warm  tide  of  feeling  which  carried  away 
all  that  separated  Joseph  from  his  brethren  bore  him 
on  also  to  the  decision  to  invite  his  father's  entire 
household  into  Egypt.  We  are  reminded  that  the 
history  of  Joseph  in  Egypt  is  an  episode,  and  that 
Jacob  is  still  the  head  of  the  house,  maintaining  its 
dignity  and  guiding  its  movements.  The  notices  we 
get  of  him  in  this  latter  part  of  his  history  are  very 
characteristic.  The  indomitable  toughness  of  his  youth 
remained  with  him  in  his  old  age.  He  was  one  of  those 
old  men  who  maintain  their  vigour  to  the  end,  the  energy 
of  whose  age  seems  to  shame  and  overtax  the  prime  of 
common  men  ;  whose  minds  are  still  the  clearest,  their 
advice  the  safest,  their  word  waited  for,  their  perception 
of  the  actual  state  of  affairs  always  in  advance  of  their 
juniors,  more  modern  and  fully  abreast  of  the  times  in 
their  ideas  than  the  latest  born  of  their  children.     Such 


404  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

an  old  age  we  recognise  in  Jacob's  half-scornful  cliiding 
of  the  helplessness  of  his  sons  even  after  they  had  heard 
that  there  was  corn  in  Egypt.  "  Why  look  ye  one  upon 
another  ?  Behold  !  I  have  heard  that  there  is  corn 
in  Egypt ;  get  ye  down  thither  and  buy  for  us  from 
thence,"  Jacob,  the  man  who  had  wrestled  through 
life  and  bent  all  things  to  his  will,  cannot  put  up  with 
the  helpless  dejection  of  this  troop  of  strong  men,  who 
have  no  v;it  to  devise  an  escape  for  themselves,  and  no 
resolution  to  enforce  upon  the  others  any  device  that 
may  occur  to  them.  Waiting  still  like  children  for 
some  one  else  to  help  them,  having  strength  to  endure 
but  no  strength  to  undertake  the  responsibility  of 
advising  in  an  emergency,  they  are  roused  by  their 
father,  who  has  been  eyeing  this  condition  of  theirs  with 
some  curiosity  and  with  some  contempt,  and  now  breaks 
in  upon  it  with  his  "  Why  look  ye  one  upon  another  ?  " 
It  is  the  old  Jacob,  full  of  resources,  prompt  and 
imperturbable,  equal  to  every  turn  of  fortune,  and  never 
knowing  how  to  yield. 

Even  more  clearly  do  we  see  the  vigour  of  Jacob's 
old  age  when  he  comes  in  contact  with  Joseph.  For 
many  years  Joseph  had  been  accustomed  to  command ; 
he  had  unusual  natural  sagacity  and  a  special  gift  of 
insight  from  God,  but  he  seems  a  child  in  comparison 
with  Jacob.  When  he  brings  his  two  sons  to  get  their 
grandfather's  blessing,  Jacob  sees  what  Joseph  has  no 
inkling  of,  and  peremptorily  declines  to  follow  the  advice 
of  his  wise  son.  With  all  Joseph's  sagacity  there  were 
points  in  which  his  blind  father  saw  more  clearly  than 
he.  Joseph,  who  could  teach  the  Egyptian  senators 
wisdom,  standing  thus  at  a  loss  even  to  understand  his 
father,  and  suggesting  in  his  ignorance  futile  correc- 
tions, is  a  picture  of  the  incapacity  of  natural  affection 


Gen.  xlv.]  THE  RECONCILIATION.  405 

to  rise  to  the  wisdom  of  God's  love,  and  of  the  finest 
natural  discernment  to  anticipate  God's  purposes  or 
supply  the  place  of  a  Hfelong  experience. 

Jacob's  warm-heartedness  has  also  survived  the  chills 
and  shocks  of  a  long  lifetime.  He  clings  now  to  Ben- 
jamin as  once  he  clung  to  Joseph.  And  as  he  had 
wrought  for  Rachel  fourteen  years,  and  the  love  he 
bare  to  her  made  them  seem  but  a  few  days,  so  for 
twenty  years  now  had  he  remembered  Joseph  who  had 
inherited  this  love,  and  he  shows  by  his  frequent  refer- 
ence to  him  that  he  was  keeping  his  word  and  going 
down  to  the  grave  mourning  for  his  son.  To  such  a 
man  it  must  have  been  a  severe  trial  indeed  to  be  left 
alone  in  his  tents,  deprived  of  all  his  twelve  sons  ;  and 
we  hear  his  old  faith  in  God  steadying  the  voice  that 
yet  trembles  with  emotion  as  he  says,  "  If  I  be  bereaved 
of  my  children,  I  am  bereaved."  It  was  a  trial  not, 
indeed,  so  painful  as  that  of  Abraham  when  he  lifted 
the  knife  over  the  life  of  his  only  son  ;  but  it  was  so 
similar  to  it  as  inevitably  to  suggest  it  to  the  mind. 
Jacob  also  had  to  yield  up  all  his  children,  and  to  feel, 
as  he  sat  solitary  in  his  tent,  how  utterly  dependent 
upon  God  he  was  for  their  restoration  ;  that  it  was  not 
he  but  God  alone  who  could  build  the  house  of  Israel. 

The  anxiety  with  which  he  gazed  evening  after  even- 
ing towards  the  setting  sun,  to  descry  the  returning 
caravan,  was  at  last  relieved.  But  his  joy  was  not 
altogether  unalloyed.  His  sons  brought  with  them  a 
summons  to  shift  the  patriarchal  encampment  into 
Egypt — a  summons  which  evidently  nothing  would 
have  induced  Jacob  to  respond  to  had  it  not  come  from 
his  long-lost  Joseph,  and  had  it  not  thus  received  what 
he  felt  to  be  a  divine  sanction.  The  extreme  reluctance 
which  Jacob  showed  to  the  journey,  we  must  be  careful 


4c6  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

to  refer  to  its  true  source.  The  Asiatics,  and  especially 
shepherd  tribes,  move  easily.  One  who  thoroughly 
knows  the  East  says :  "  The  Oriental  is  not  afraid 
to  go  far,  if  he  has  not  to  cross  the  sea  ;  for,  once  up- 
rooted, distance  makes  little  difference  to  him.  He  has 
no  furniture  to  carry,  for,  except  a  carpet  and  a  few 
brass  pans,  he  uses  none.  He  has  no  trouble  about 
meals,  for  he  is  content  with  parched  grain,  which  his 
wife  can  cook  anywhere,  or  dried  dates,  or  dried  flesh, 
or  anything  obtainable  which  will  keep.  He  is,  on  a 
march,  careless  where  he  sleeps,  provided  his  family 
are  around  him — in  a  stable,  under  a  porch,  in  the  open 
air.  He  never  changes  his  clothes  at  night,  and  he  is 
profoundly  indifferent  to  everything  that  the  Western 
man  understands  by  '  comfort.' "  But  there  was  in 
Jacob's  case  a  peculiarity.  He  was  called  upon  to 
abandon,  for  an  indefinite  period,  the  land  which  God 
had  given  him  as  the  heir  of  His  promise.  With  very 
great  toil  and  not  a  little  danger  had  Jacob  won  his 
way  back  to  Canaan  from  Mesopotamia;  on  his  re- 
turn he  had  spent  the  best  years  of  his  life,  and  now 
he  was  resting  there  in  his  old  age,  having  seen  his 
children's  children,  and  expecting  nothing  but  a  peace- 
ful departure  to  his  fathers.  But  suddenly  the  wagons 
of  Pharaoh  stand  at  his  tent-door,  and  while  the  parched 
and  bare  pastures  bid  him  go  to  the  plenty  of  Egypt, 
to  which  the  voice  of  his  long-lost  son  invites  him,  he 
hears  a  summons  which,  however  trying,  he  cannot 
disregard. 

Such  an  experience  is  perpetually  reproduced.  Many 
are  they  who  having  at  length  received  from  God  some 
long-expected  good  are  quickly  summoned  to  relinquish 
it  again.  And  while  the  waiting  for  what  seems  in- 
dispensable to  us  is  trying,  it  is  tenfold  more  so  to  have 


Gen.xlv.]  THE  RECOXCILIATION.  407 

to  part  with  it  when  at  last  obtained,  and  obtained  at 
the  cost  of  much  besides.  That  particular  arrangement 
of  our  worldly  circumstances  which  we  have  long 
sought,  we  are  almost  immediately  thrown  out  of. 
That  position  in  life,  or  that  object  of  desire,  which  God 
Himself  seems  in  many  ways  to  have  encouraged  us  to 
seek,  is  taken  from  us  almost  as  soon  as  we  have  tasted 
its  sweetness.  The  cup  is  dashed  from  our  lips  at  the 
very  moment  when  our  thirst  was  to  be  fully  slaked. 
In  such  distressing  circumstances  we  cannot  see  the 
end  God  is  aiming  at ;  but  of  this  we  may  be  certain, 
that  He  does  not  wantonly  annoy,  or  relish  our  dis- 
comfiture, and  that  when  we  are  compelled  to  resign 
what  is  partial,  it  is  that  we  may  one  day  enjoy  what  is 
complete,  and  that  if  for  the  present  we  have  to  forego 
much  comfort  and  delight,  this  is  only  an  absolutely 
necessary  step  towards  our  permanent  establishment 
in  all  that  can  bless  and  prosper  us. 

It  is  this  state  of  feeling  which  explains  the  words 
of  Jacob  when  introduced  to  Pharaoh.  A  recent  writer, 
who  spent  some  years  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile  and  on 
its  waters,  and  who  mixed  freely  with  the  inhabitants 
of  Egypt,  says  :  "  Old  Jacob's  speech  to  Pharaoh  really 
made  me  laugh,  because  it  is  so  exactly  like  what  a 
Fellah  says  to  a  Pacha,  '  Few  and  evil  have  the  days 
of  the  years  of  my  life  been,'  Jacob  being  a  most 
prosperous  man,  but  it  is  manners  to  say  all  that." 
But  Eastern  manners  need  scarcely  be  called  in  to 
explain  a  sentiment  which  we  find  repeated  by  one  who 
is  generally  esteemed  the  most  self-sufficing  of  Euro- 
peans. "  I  have  ever  been  esteemed,"  Goetlie  sa3^s, 
"  one  of  Fortune's  chiefest  favourites  ;  nor  will  I  com- 
plain or  find  fault  with  the  course  my  life  has  taken. 
Yet,  truly,   there  has  been  nothing  but  toil  and  care ; 


4o8  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

and  I  may  say  that,  in  all  my  seventy-five  j^ears,  I  have 
never  had  a  month  of  genuine  comfort.  It  has  been 
the  perpetual  rolling  of  a  stone,  which  I  have  always 
had  to  raise  anew."  Jacob's  life  had  been  almost 
ceaseless  disquiet  and  disappointment.  A  man  who 
had  fled  his  country,  who  had  been  cheated  into  a 
marriage,  who  had  been  compelled  by  his  own  relative 
to  live  like  a  slave,  who  was  only  by  flight  able  to  save 
himself  from  a  perpetual  injustice,  whose  sons  made  his 
life  bitter, — one  of  them  by  the  foulest  outrage  a  father 
could  suffer,  two  of  them  by  making  him,  as  he  himself 
said,  to  stink  in  the  nostrils  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
land  he  was  trying  to  settle  in,  and  all  of  them  by 
conspiring  to  deprive  him  of  the  child  he  most  dearly 
loved — a  man  who  at  last,  when  he  seemed  to  have  had 
experience  of  every  form  of  human  calamity,  was  com- 
pelled by  famine  to  relinquish  the  land  for  the  sake  of 
which  he  had  endured  all  and  spent  all,  might  surely  be 
forgiven  a  little  plaintiveness  in  looking  back  upon  his 
past.  The  wonder  is  to  find  Jacob  to  the  end  unbroken, 
dignified,  and  clear-seeing,  capable  and  commanding, 
loving  and  full  of  faith. 

Cordial  as  the  reconciliation  between  Joseph  and  his 
brethren  seemed,  it  was  not  as  thorough  as  might  have 
been  desired.  So  long,  indeed,  as  Jacob  lived,  all  went 
well ;  but  "  when  Joseph's  brethren  saw  that  their 
father  was  dead,  they  said,  Joseph  will  peradventure 
hate  us,  and  will  certainly  requite  us  all  the  evil  which 
we  did  unto  him."  No  wonder  Joseph  wept  when  he 
received  their  message.  He  wept  because  he  saw  that 
he  was  still  misunderstood  and  distrusted  by  his 
brethren ;  because  he  felt,  too,  that  had  they  been  more 
generous  men  themselves,  they  would  more  easily  have 
believed  in  his  forgiveness ;    and  because  his  pity  was 


Gen.  xlv.]  THE   RECOXCILIATION.  409 

stirred  for  these  men,  who  recognised  that  they  were 
so  completely  in  the  power  of  their  younger  brother. 
Joseph  had  passed  through  severe  conflicts  of  feeling 
about  them,  had  been  at  great  expense  both  of  emotion 
and  of  outward  good  on  their  account,  had  risked  his 
position  in  order  to  be  able  to  serve  them,  and  here  is 
his  reward  !  They  supposed  he  had  been  but  biding 
his  time,  that  his  apparent  forgetfulness  of  their  injury 
had  been  the  crafty  restraint  of  a  deep-seated  resent- 
ment ;  or,  at  best,  that  he  had  been  unconsciously 
influenced  by  regard  for  his  father,  and  now,  when  that 
influence  was  removed,  the  helpless  condition  of  his 
brethren  might  tempt  him  to  retaliate.  This  exhibition 
of  a  craven  and  suspicious  spirit  is  unexpected^  and 
must  have  been  profoundly  saddening  to  Joseph.  Yet 
here,  as  elsewhere,  he  is  magnanimous.  Pity  for  them 
turns  his  thoughts  from  the  injustice  done  to  himself. 
He  comforts  them,  and  speaks  kindly  to  them,  saying. 
Fear  ye  not ;  I  will  nourish  you  and  your  little  ones. 

Many  painful  thoughts  must  have  been  suggested  to 
Joseph  by  this  conduct.  If,  after  all  he  had  done  for 
his  brethren,  they  had  not  yet  learned  to  love  him,  but 
met  his  kindness  with  suspicion,  was  it  not  probable 
that  underneath  his  apparent  popularity  with  the 
Egyptians  there  might  lie  envy,  or  the  cold  acknowledg- 
ment that  falls  far  short  of  love  ?  This  sudden  dis- 
closure of  the  real  feeling  of  his  brethren  towards  him 
must  necessarily  have  made  him  uneasy  about  his  other 
friendships.  Did  every  one  merely  make  use  of  him, 
and  did  no  one  give  him  pure  love  for  his  own  sake  ? 
The  people  he  had  saved  from  famine,  was  there  one 
of  them  that  regarded  him  with  anything  resembling 
personal  affection  ?  Distrust  seemed  to  pursue  Joseph 
from  first  to  last.     First  liis  own  family  misunderstood 


410  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

and  persecuted  him.  Then  his  Eg3'ptian  master  had 
returned  his  devoted  service  wdth  suspicion  and  im- 
prisonment. And  now  again,  after  suf^jient  time  for 
testing  his  character  might  seem  to  have  elapsed,  he 
was  still  looked  upon  with  distrust  by  those  who  of  all 
others  had  best  reason  to  believe  in  him.  But  though 
Joseph  had  through  all  his  life  been  thus  conversant 
with  suspicion,  cruelty,  falsehood,  ingratitude,  and 
blindness,  though  he  seemed  doomed  to  be  always 
misread,  and  to  have  his  best  deeds  made  the  ground 
of  accusation  against  him,  he  remained  not  merely  un- 
soured,  but  equally  ready  as  ever  to  be  of  service  to  all. 
The  finest  natures  may  be  disconcerted  and  deadened 
by  universal  distrust ;  characters  not  naturally  un- 
amiable  are  sometimes  embittered  by  suspicion  ;  and 
persons  who  are  in  the  main  high-minded  do  stoop, 
when  stung  by  such  treatment,  to  rail  at  the  world,  or 
to  question  all  generous  emotion,  steadfast  friendship, 
or  unimpeachable  integrity.  In  Joseph  there  is  nothing 
of  this.  If  ever  man  had  a  right  to  complain  of  being 
unappreciated,  it  was  he  ;  if  ever  man  was  tempted  to 
give  up  making  sacrifices  for  his  relatives,  it  was  he. 
But  through  all  this  he  bore  himself  with  manly  gene- 
rosity, with  simple  and  persistent  faith,  with  a  dignified 
respect  for  himself  and  for  other  men.  In  the  ingrati- 
tude and  injustice  he  had  to  endure,  he  only  found 
opportunity  for  a  deeper  unselfishness,  a  more  God-like 
forbearance.  And  that  such  may  be  the  outcome  of  the 
sorest  parts  of  human  experience  we  have  one  day 
or  other  need  to  remem.ber.  When  our  good  is  evil 
spoken  of,  our  motives  suspected,  our  most  sincere 
sacrifices  scrutinized  by  an  ignorant  and  malicious 
spirit,  our  most  substantial  and  well-judged  acts  of 
kindness  received  with  suspicion,  and  the  love  that  is 


Gen.  xlv.]  THE  RECONCILIATION.  411 

in  them  quite  rejected,  it  is  then  we  have  opportunity  to 
show  that  to  us  belongs  the  Christian  temper  that  can 
pardon  till  seventy  times  seven,  and  that  can  persist 
in  loving  where  love  meets  no  response,  and  benefits 
provoke  no  gratitude. 

How  Joseph  spent  the  years  which  succeeded  the 
famine  we  have  no  means  of  knowing ;  but  the  closing 
act  of  his  life  seemed  to  the  narrator  so  significant  as  to 
be  worthy  of  record.  "Joseph  said  unto  his  brethren, 
I  die  :  and  God  will  surely  visit  you,  and  bring  you  out 
of  this  land  unto  the  land  which  he  sware  to  Abraham, 
to  Isaac,  and  to  Jacob.  And  Joseph  took  an  oath  of 
the  children  of  Israel,  saying,  God  will  surely  visit  you, 
and  ye  shall  carry  up  my  bones  from  hence."  The 
Egyptians  must  have  chiefly  been  struck  by  the  sim- 
plicity of  character  which  this  request  betokened.  To 
the  great  benefactors  of  our  country,  the  highest  award 
is  reserved  to  be  given  after  death.  So  long  as  a  man 
lives,  some  rude  stroke  of  fortune  or  some  disastrous 
error  of  his  own  may  blast  his  fame ;  but  when  his 
bones  are  laid  with  those  who  have  served  their  country 
best,  a  seal  is  set  on  his  life,  and  a  sentence  pronounced 
which  the  revision  of  posterity  rarely  revokes.  Such 
honours  were  customary  among  the  Egyptians  ;  it  is 
from  their  tombs  that  their  history  can  now  be  written. 
And  to  none  were  such  honours  more  accessible  than 
to  Joseph.  But  after  a  life  in  the  service  of  the  state 
he  retains  the  simplicity  of  the  Hebrew  lad.  With 
the  magnanimity  of  a  great  and  pure  soul,  he  passed 
uncontaminated  through  the  flatteries  and  temptations 
of  court-life  ;  and,  like  Moses,  "  esteemed  the  reproach 
of  Christ  greater  riches  than  the  treasures  of  Eg3'pt." 
He  has  not  indulged  in  any  affectation  of  simplicit}^, 
nor  has  he,  in  the  pride  that  apes  humility,  declined 


412  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

the  ordinary  honours  due  to  a  man  in  his  position.  He 
wears  the  badges  of  office,  the  robe  and  the  gold 
necklace,  but  these  things  do  not  reach  his  spirit.  He 
has  lived  in  a  region  in  which  such  honours  make  no 
deep  impression ;  and  in  his  death  he  shows  where 
his  heart  has  been.  The  small  voice  of  God,  spoken 
centuries  ago  to  his  forefathers,  deafens  him  to  the 
loud  acclaim  with  which  the  people  do  him  homage. 

By  later  generations  this  dying  request  of  Joseph's 
was  looked  upon  as  one  of  the  most  remarkable  in- 
stances of  faith.  For  many  years  there  had  been  no 
new  revelation.  The  rising  generations  that  had  seen 
no  man  with  whom  God  had  spoken,  were  little 
interested  in  the  land  which  was  said  to  be  theirs,  but 
which  they  very  well  knew  was  infested  by  fierce  tribes 
who,  on  at  least  one  occasion  during  this  period,  in- 
flicted disastrous  defeat  on  one  of  the  boldest  of  their 
own  tribes.  They  were,  besides,  extremely  attached  to 
the  country  of  their  adoption  ;  they  luxuriated  in  its 
fertile  meadows  and  teeming  gardens,  which  kept  them 
supplied  at  little  cost  of  labour  with  dehcacies  unknown 
on  the  hills  of  Canaan.  This  oath,  therefore,  which 
Joseph  made  them  swear,  may  have  revived  the  droop- 
ing hopes  of  the  small  remnant  who  had  any  of  his  own 
spirit.  They  saw  that  he,  their  most  sagacious  man, 
lived  and  died  in  full  assurance  that  God  would  visit 
His  people.  And  through  all  the  terrible  bondage  they 
were  destined  to  suffer,  the  bones  of  Joseph,  or  rather 
his  embalmed  body,  stood  as  the  most  eloquent  advocate 
of  God's  faithfulness,  ceaselessly  reminding  the  de- 
spondent generations  of  the  oath  which  God  would  yet 
enable  them  to  fulfil.  As  often  as  they  felt  inclined  to 
give  up  all  hope  and  the  last  surviving  Israelitish 
peculiarity,     there    was    the    unburied    coffin    rem.on- 


Gen.  xlv.]  THE   RFXOXCILIATION.  4^3 

strating;  Joseph  still,  even  when  dead,  refusing  to  let 
his  dust  mingle  with  Egyptian  earth. 

And  thus,  as  Joseph  had  been  their  pioneer  who 
broke  out  a  way  for  them  into  Egypt,  so  did  he  continue 
to  hold  open  the  gate  and  point  the  way  back  to  Canaan. 
The  brethren  had  sold  him  into  this  for-eign  land, 
meaning  to  bury  him  for  ever;  he  retaliated  by 
requiring  that  the  tribes  should  restore  hiai  to  the  land 
from  which  he  had  been  expelled.  Few  men  have 
opportunity  of  showing  so  noble  a  revenge;  fewer  still, 
having  the  opportunity,  would  so  have  used  it.  Jacob 
had  been  carried  up  to  Canaan  as  soon  as  he  was  dead  : 
Joseph  declines  this  exceptional  treatment,  and  prefers 
to  share  the  fortunes  of  his  brethren,  and  will  then  only 
enter  on  the  promised  land  when  all  his  people  can  go 
with  him.  As  in  life,  so  in  death,  he  took  a  large  view 
of  things,  and  had  no  feeling  that  the  world  ended  in 
him.  His  career  had  taught  him  to  consider  national 
interests;  and  now,  on  his  death -bed,  it  is  from  the 
point  of  view  of  his  people  that  he  looks  at  the  future. 

Several  passages  in  the  life  of  Joseph  have  shown  us 
that  where  the  Spirit  of  Christ  is  present,  many  parts 
of  the  conduct  will  suggest,  if  they  do  not  actually 
resemble,  acts  in  the  life  of  Christ.  The  attitude 
towards  the  future  in  which  Joseph  sets  his  people  as 
he  leaves  them,  can  scarcely  fail  to  suggest  the  attitude 
which  Christians  are  called  to  assume.  The  prospect 
which  the  Hebrews  had  of  fulfilling  their  oath  grew 
increasingly  faint,  but  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  its 
performance  must  only  have  made  them  more  clearly 
see  that  they  depended  on  God  for  entrance  on  the 
promised  inheritance.  And  so  may  the  difficulty  of  our 
duties  as  Christ's  followers  measure  for  us  the  amount 
of  grace  God  has  provided  for  us.     The  commands  that 


414  THE  BOOK  OF  GEXES2S. 

make  you  sensible  of  your  weakness,  and  bring  to  light 
more  clearly  than  ever  how  unfit  for  good  you  are,  are 
witnesses  to  you  that  God  will  visit  you  and  enable  you 
to  fulfil  the  oath  He  has  required  you  to  take.  The 
children  of  Israel  could  not  suppose  that  a  man  so  wise 
as  Joseph  had  ended  his  life  with  a  childish  folly,  when 
he  made  them  swear  this  oath,  and  could  not  but  renew 
their  hope  that  the  day  would  come  when  his  wisdom 
would  be  justified  by  their  ability  to  discharge  it. 
Neither  ought  it  to  be  beyond  our  belief  that,  in 
requiring  from  us  such  and  such  conduct,  our  Lord  has 
kept  in  view  our  actual  condition  and  its  possibilities, 
and  that  His  commands  are  our  best  guide  towards 
a  state  of  permanent  felicity.  He  that  aims  always 
at  the  performance  of  the  oath  he  has  taken,  will 
assuredly  find  that  God  will  not  stultify  Himself  by 
failing  to  support  him. 


XXXI. 

THE   BLESSINGS    OF   THE    TRIBES. 
Genesis  xlviii.  and  xlix. 

JACOB'S  blessing  of  his  sons  marks  the  close  of  the 
patriarchal  dispensation.  Henceforth  the  channel 
of  God's  blessing  to  man  does  not  consist  of  one 
person  only,  but  of  a  peop'e  or  nation.  It  is  still  one 
seed,  as  Paul  reminds  us,  a  unit  that  God  will  bless,  but 
this  unit  is  now  no  longer  a  single  person — as  Abraham, 
Isaac,  or  Jacob — but  one  people,  composed  of  several 
parts,  and  yet  one  whole ;  equally  representative  of 
Christ,  as  the  patriarchs  were,  and  of  equal  eflect  every 
way  in  receiving  God's  blessing  and  handing  it  down 
until  Christ  came.  The  Old  Testament  Church,  quite 
as  truly  as  the  New,  formed  one  whole  with  Christ. 
Apart  from  11  im  it  had  no  meaning,  and  would  have 
had  no  existence.  It  was  the  promised  seed,  always 
growing  more  and  more  to  its  perfect  development  in 
Christ.  As  the  promise  was  kept  to  Abraham  when 
Isaac  was  born,  and  as  Isaac  was  truly  the  promised 
seed — in  so  far  as  he  was  a  part  of  the  series  that  led 
on  to  Christ,  and  was  given  in  fulfilment  of  the  promise 
that  promised  Christ  to  the  world — so  all  through  the 
history  of  Israel  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  in  them 
God  is  fulfilling  this  same  promise,  and  that  they  are 
the  promised  seed  in  so  far  as  they  are  one  with  Christ. 


41 6  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

And  this  interprets  to  us  all  those  passages  of  the 
prophets  regarding  which  men  have  disputed  whether 
they  are  to  be  applied  to  Israel  or  to  Christ :  passages 
in  which  God  addresses  Israel  in  such  words  as,  "  Be- 
hold My  servant,"  "  Mine  elect,"  and  so  forth,  and  in 
the  interpretation  of  which  it  has  been  thought  sufficient 
proof  that  they  do  not  apply  to  Christ,  to  prove  that 
they  do  apply  to  Israel ;  whereas,  on  the  principle  just 
laid  down,  it  might  much  more  safely  be  argued  that 
because  they  apply  to  Israel,  therefore  they  apply  to 
Christ.  And  it  is  at  this  point — where  Israel  dis- 
tributes among  his  sons  the  blessing  which  heretofore 
had  all  lodged  in  himself — that  we  see  the  first  multi- 
plication of  Christ's  representatives  ;  the  mediation 
going  on  no  longer  through  individuals,  but  through  a 
nation  ;  and  where  individuals  are  still  chosen  by  God, 
as  commonly  they  are,  for  the  conveyance  of  God's 
communications  to  earth,  these  individuals,  whether 
priests  or  prophets,  are  themselves  but  the  official 
representatives  of  the  nation. 

As  the  patriarchal  dispensation  ceases,  it  secures  to 
the  tribes  all  the  blessing  it  has  itself  contained.  Every 
father  desires  to  leave  to  his  sons  whatever  he  has 
himself  found  helpful,  but  as  they  gather  round  his 
dying  bed,  or  as  he  sits  setting  his  house  in  order,  and 
considering  what  portion  is  appropriate  for  each,  he 
recognises  that  to  some  of  them  it  is  quite  useless  to 
bequeath  the  most  valuable  parts  of  his  property,  while 
in  others  he  discerns  a  capacity  which  promises  the 
improvement  of  all  that  is  entrusted  to  it.  And  from 
the  earliest  times  the  various  characters  of  the  tribes 
were  destined  to  modify  the  blessing  conveyed  to  them 
by  their  father.  The  blessing  of  Israel  is  now  dis- 
tributed, and   each  receives  what  each  can  take ;  and 


Gen.xlviii.andxlix.]    BLESSINGS  OF  THE  TRIBES.  417 

while  in  some  of  the  individual  tribes  there  may  seem 
to  be  very  little  of  blessing  at  all,  yet,  taken  together, 
they  form  a  picture  of  the  common  outstanding  features 
of  human  nature,  and  of  that  nature  as  acted  upon  by 
God's  blessing,  and  forming  together  one  body  or 
Church.  A  peculiar  interest  attaches  to  the  history  of 
some  nations,  and  is  not  altogether  absent  from  our 
own,  from  the  precision  with  which  we  can  trace  the 
character  of  families,  descending  often  with  the  same 
unmistakable  lineaments  from  father  to  son  for  many 
generations.*  One  knows  at  once  to  what  families  to 
look  for  restless  and  turbulent  spirits,  ready  for  con- 
spiracy and  revolution  ;  and  one  knows  also  where  to 
seek  steady  and  faithful  loyalty,  public-spiritedness,  or 
native  ability.  And  in  Israel's  national  character  there 
was  room  for  the  great  distinguishing  features  of  the 
tribes,  and  to  show  the  richness  and  variety  with  which 
the  promise  of  God  could  fulfil  itself  wherever  it  was 
received.  The  distinguishing  features  which  Jacob 
depicts  in  the  blessings  of  his  sons  are  necessarily 
veiled  under  the  poetic  figures  of  prophecy,  and  spoken 
of  as  they  would  reveal  themselves  in  worldly  matters ; 
but  these  features  were  found  in  all  the  generations  of 
the  tribes,  and  displayed  themselves  in  things  spiritual 
also.  For  a  man  has  not  two  characters,  but  one  ;  and 
what  he  is  in  the  world,  that  he  is  in  his  religion.  Tn 
our  own  country,  it  is  seen  how  the  forms  of  worship, 
and  even  the  doctrines  believed,  and  certainly  the  modes 
of  religious  thought  and  feeling,  depend  on  the  natural 
character,  and  the  natural  character  on  the  local  situa- 
tion of  the  respective  sections  of  the  community.  No 
doubt  in  a  country  like  ours,  where  men  so  constantly 

*  Mciivale's  Rotiians  under  the  Empire,  vi.  261. 

27 


4i8  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

migrate  from  place  to  place,  and  where  one  common 
literature  tends  to  mould  us  all  to  the  same  way  of 
thinking,  you  do  get  men  of  all  kinds  in  every  place  ; 
yet  even  among  ourselves  the  character  of  a  place  is 
generally  still  visible,  and  predominates  over  all  that 
mingles  with  it.  Much  more  must  this  character  have 
been  retained  in  a  country  where  each  man  could  trace 
his  ancestry  up  to  the  father  of  the  tribe,  and  cultivated 
with  pride  the  family  characteristics,  and  had  but  little 
intercourse,  either  literary  or  personal,  with  other  minds 
and  other  manners.  As  we  know  by  dialect  and  by  the 
manners  of  the  people  when  we  pass  into  a  new  country, 
so  must  the  Israelite  have  known  by  the  eye  and  ear 
when  he  had  crossed  the  county  frontier,  when  he 
was  conversing  with  a  Benjamite,  and  when  with  a 
descendant  of  Judah.  We  are  not  therefore  to  suppose 
that  any  of  these  utterances  of  Jacob  are  mere  geo- 
graphical predictions,  or  that  they  depict  characteristics 
which  might  appear  in  civil  life,  but  not  in  religion  and 
the  Church,  or  that  they  would  die  out  with  the  first 
generation. 

In  these  blessings,  therefore,  we  have  the  history 
of  the  Church  in  its  most  interesting  form.  In  these 
sons  gathered  round  him,  the  patriarch  sees  his  own 
nature  reflected  piece  by  piece,  and  he  sees  also  the 
gen'eral  outHne  of  all  that  must  be  produced  by  such 
natures  as  these  men  have.  The  whole  destiny  of 
Israel  is  here  in  germ,  and  the  spirit  of  prophecy  in 
Jacob  sees  and  declares  it.  It  has  often  been  remarked* 
that  as  a  man  draws  near  to  death,  he  seems  to  see 
many  things  in  a  much  clearer  Hght,  and  especially  gets 
glimpses  into  the  future,  which  are  hidden  from  others. 

*  Plato,  Rcpub.  i.  5,  etc. 


Gen.xlviii.andxlix.]     BLESSIXGS  OF  THE  TRIBES.  419 

**  The  soul's  dark  cottage,  battered  and  decayed, 

Lets  in  new  light  through  chinks  that  time  Iiath  made." 

Being  nearer  to  eternity,  he  instinctively  measures 
things  by  its  standard,  and  thus  comes  nearer  a  just 
valuation  of  all  things  before  lus  mind,  and  can  better 
distinguish  reality  from  appearance.  Jacob  has  studied 
these  sons  of  his  for  fifty  years,  and  has  had  his  acute 
perception  of  character  painfully  enough  called  to 
exercise  itself  on  them.  He  has  all  his  life  long  had 
a  liking  for  analysing  men's  inner  life,  knowing  that, 
when  he  understands  that,  he  can  better  use  them  for 
his  own  ends  ;  and  these  sons  of  his  own  have  cost 
him  thought  enough  over  and  above  that  sometimes 
penetrating  interest  which  a  father  will  take  in  the 
growth  of  a  son's  character  ;  and  now  he  knows  them 
thorough!}-,  understands  their  temptations,  their  weak- 
nesses, their  capabilities,  and,  as  a  wise  head  of  a  house, 
can,  with  delicate  and  unnoticed  skill,  balance  the  one 
against  the  other,  ward  off  awkward  collisions,  and 
prevent  the  evil  from  destroying  the  good.  This  know- 
ledge of  Jacob  prepares  him  for  being  the  intelligent 
agent  by  whom  God  predicts  in  outline  the  future  of 
His  Church. 

One  cannot  but  admire,  too,  the  faith  which  enables 
Jacob  to  apportion  to  his  sons  the  blessings  of  a  land 
which  had  not  been  much  of  a  resting-place  to  himself, 
and  regarding  the  occupation  of  which  his  sons  might 
have  put  to  him  some  very  difficult  questions.  And  we 
admire  this  dignified  faith  the  more  on  reflecting  that 
it  has  often  been  very  grievously  lacking  in  our  own  case 
— that  we  have  felt  almost  ashamed  of  having  so  little 
of  a  present  tangible  kind  to  ofier,  and  of  being  obliged 
to  speak  only  of  invisible  and  future  blessings ;  to  set 
c  spiritual  consolation  over  against  a  worldly  grief;  to 


420  7HE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

point  a  man  whose  fortunes  are  ruined  to  an  eternal 
inheritance ;  or  to  speak  to  one  who  knows  himself 
quite  in  the  power  of  sin  of  a  remedy  which  has  often 
seemed  illusory  to  ourselves.  Some  of  us  have  got 
so  little  comfort  or  strength  from  religion  ourselves, 
that  we  have  no  heart  to  offer  it  to  others ;  and  most 
of  us  have  a  feeling  that  we  should  seem  to  trifle  were 
Vi^e  to  offer  invisible  aid  against  very  visible  calamity. 
At  least  we  feel  that  we  are  doing  a  daring  thing  in 
making  such  an  offer,  and  can  scarce  get  over  the 
desire  that  we  had  something  to  speak  of  which  sight 
could  appreciate,  and  which  did  not  require  the  exercise 
of  faith.  Again  and  again  the  wish  rises  within  us 
that  to  the  sick  man  we  could  bring  health  as  well  as 
the  promise  of  forgiveness,  and  that  to  the  poor  we 
could  grant  an  earthly,  while  we  make  known  a  heavenly, 
inheritance.  One  who  has  experienced  these  scruples, 
and  known  how  hard  it  is  to  get  rid  of  them,  will  know 
also  how  to  honour  the  faith  of  Jacob,  by  which  he 
assumes  the  right  to  bless  Pharaoh — though  he  is 
himself  a  mere  sojourner  by  sufferance  in  Pharaoh's 
land,  and  living  on  his  bounty — and  by  which  he 
gathers  his  children  round  him  and  portions  out  to 
them  a  land  which  seemed  to  have  been  most  barren 
to  himself,  and  which  now  seemed  quite  beyond  his 
reach.  The  enjoyments  of  it,  which  he  himself  had 
not  very  deeply  tasted,  he  yet  knew  were  real ;  and  if 
there  were  a  look  of  scepticism,  or  of  scorn,  on  the 
face  of  any  one  of  his  sons  ;  if  the  unbelief  of  any 
received  the  prophetic  utterances  as  the  ravings  of 
delirium,  or  the  fancies  of  an  imbecile  and  worn-out 
mind  going  back  to  the  scenes  of  its  youth,  in  Jacob 
himself  there  was  so  simple  and  unsuspecting  a  faith 
in  God's  promise,  that  he  dealt  with  the  land  as  if  it 


Gen.xlviii.andxlix.]    BLESSINGS  OF  THE  TRIBES.  421 

were  the  only  portion  worth  bequeathing  to  his  sons, 
as  if  every  Canaanite  were  ah^eady  cast  out  of  it,  and 
as  if  he  knew  his  sons  could  never  be  tempted  by  the 
wealth  of  Egypt  to  turn  with  contempt  from  the  land 
of  promise.  And  if  we  would  attain  to  this  boldness 
of  his,  and  be  able  to  speak  of  spiritual  and  future 
blessings  as  very  substantial  and  valuable,  we  must 
ourselves  learn  to  make  much  of  God's  promise,  and 
leave  no  taint  of  unbelief  in  our  reception  of  it. 

And  often  we  are  rebuked  by  finding  that  when  we 
do  offer  things  spiritual,  even  those  who  are  wrapped 
in  earthly  comforts  appreciate  and  accept  the  better 
gifts.  So  it  was  in  Joseph's  case.  No  doubt  the 
highest  posts  in  Egypt  were  open  to  his  sons ;  they 
might  have  been  naturalised,  as  he  himself  had  been, 
and,  throwing  in  their  lot  with  tl:e  land  of  their  adop- 
tion, might  have  turned  to  their  advantage  the  rank 
their  father  held,  and  the  reputation  he  had  earned. 
But  Joseph  turns  from  this  attractive  prospect,  brings 
them  to  his  father,  and  hands  them  over  to  the  despised 
shepherd-life  of  Israel.  One  need  scarcely  point  out 
how  great  a  sacrifice  this  was  on  Joseph's  part.  So 
universally  acknowledged  and  legitimate  a  desire  is 
it  to  pass  to  one's  children  the  honou]-  achieved  by  a 
life  of  exertion,  that  states  have  no  higher  rewards 
to  confer  on  their  most  useful  servants  than  a  title 
which  their  descendants  may  wear.  But  Joseph  would 
not  suffer  his  children  to  risk  the  loss  of  their  share  in 
God's  peculiar  blessing,  not  for  the  most  promising 
openings  in  life,  or  the  highest  civil  honours.  If  the 
thoroughly  open  identification  of  them  with  the  shep- 
herds, and  their  profession  of  a  belief  in  a  distant 
inheritance,  which  must  have  made  them  appear  mad- 
men in  the  eyes  of  the  Egyptians,   if  this  was  to  cut 


422  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

tl:em  off  from  worldly  advancement,  Joseph  was  not 
careful  of  this,  for  resolved  he  was  that,  at  any  coct, 
they  should  be  among  God's  people.  And  his  faith 
received  its  reward  ;  the  two  tribes  that  sprang  from 
him  received  about  as  large  a  portion  of  the  promised 
land  as  fell  to  the  lot  of  all  the  other  tribes  put  to- 
gether. 

You  will  observe  that  Ephraim  and  Manasseh  were 
adopted  as  sons  of  Jacob.     Jacob  tells  Joseph,   "  They 
shall  be  mine,"  not  my  grandsons,  but  as  Reuben  and 
Simeon.     No  other  sons  whom  Joseph  might  have  were 
to  be  received  into  this  honour,  but  these  two  were  to 
take  their  place  on  a  level  with  their  uncles  as  heads 
of  tribes,   so  that  Joseph  is   represented  through   the 
whole  history  by  the  two  populous  and  powerful  tribes 
of  Ephraim  and   Manasseh.      No  greater  honour  could 
have  been  put  on  Joseph,  nor  any  more  distinct  and 
lasting  recognition    made   of  the   indebtedness   of   his 
family  to   him,   and  of  how   he   had    been  as  a  father 
bringing  new  life  to  his  brethren,  than  this,  that  his 
sons  should  be  raised  to  the  rank   of  heads  of  tribes, 
on  a  level  with  the  immediate  sons  of  Jacob.     And  no 
higher   honour   could  have  been  put  on  the  two   lads 
themselves  than   that  they  should   thus   be  treated  as 
if  they  were  their    father  Joseph — as  if  they  had  his 
worth  and  his  rank.      lie  is  merged  in  them,  and  all 
that    he  has  earned  is,   througho-it   tl'ie  I  i=itory,  to  be 
found,   not   in  his   own    name,    but    in    t  eirs.     It    all 
proceeds  from  him  ;  but  his  enjoyment  is  found  in  their 
enjoyment,  his  worth  acknowledged  in  their  fruitfulness. 
Thus  did  God  familiari.^e  the  Jewish  mind  t  .rough  its 
whole  history  with  the  idea,  if  they  cliose  to  t'  ink  and 
have  ideas,  of  ado]  tion,  and  of  an  adoption  of  a  peculiar 
kind,  of  an  adoption  where  aheady  t.iere  was  an  heir 


Gen.  xlviii.  and  xlix.]    BLESSINGS  OF  THE  TRIBES.  423 

who,  by  this  adoption,  has  his  name  and  worth  merged 
in  the  persons  now  received  into  his  place.  Ephraim 
and  Manasseh  were  not  received  alongside  of  Joseph, 
but  each  received  what  Joseph  himself  might  have  had, 
and  Joseph's  name  as  a  tribe  was  henceforth  only  to 
be  found  in  these  two.  This  idea  was  fixed  in  such  a 
way,  that  for  centuries  it  was  steeping  into  the  minds 
of  men,  so  that  they  might  not  be  astonished  if  God 
should  in  some  other  case,  say  the  case  of  His  own 
Son,  adopt  men  into  the  rank  He  held,  and  let  His 
estimate  of  the  worth  of  His  Son,  and  the  honour  He 
puts  upon  Him,  be  seen  in  the  adopted.  This  being 
so,  we  need  not  be  alarmed  if  men  tell  us  that  imputa- 
tion is  a  mere  legal  fiction,  or  human  invention ;  a  legal 
fiction  it  may  be,  but  in  the  case  before  us  it  was  the 
never-disputed  foundation  of  very  substantial  blessings 
to  Ephraim  and  Manasseh  ;  and  we  plead  for  nothing 
more  than  that  God  would  act  with  us  as  here  He  did 
act  with  these  two,  that  He  would  make  us  His  direct 
heirs,  make  us  His  own  sons,  and  give  us  what  He 
who  presents  us  to  Him  to  receive  His  blessing  did 
earn,  and  merits  at  the  Father's  hand. 

We  meet  with  these  crossed  hands  of  blessing 
frequently  in  Scripture  ;  the  younger  son  blessed  above 
the  elder — as  was  needful,  lest  grace  should  become 
confounded  with  nature,  and  the  belief  gradually  grow 
up  in  men's  minds  that  natural  effects  could  never  be 
overcome  by  grace,  and  that  in  every  respect  grace 
waited  upon  nature.  And  these  crossed  hands  w.e 
meet  still ;  for  how  often  does  God  quite  reverse  oitf 
order,  and  bless  most  that  about  which  we  had  less 
concern,  and  seem  to  put  a  slight  on  that  which  has 
engrossed  our  best  affection.  It  is  so,  often  in  precisely 
the  way  in  which  Joseph  found  it  so ;  the  son  whose 


424  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

youth  is  most  anxiously  cared  for,  to  whom  the  in- 
terests of  the  younger  members  of  the  family  are 
sacrificed,  and  who  is  commended  to  God  continually 
to  receive  His  right-hand  blessing,  this  son  seems 
neither  to  receive  nor  to  dispense  much  blessing  ;  but 
the  younger,  less  thought  of,  left  to  work  his  own  way, 
is  favoured  by  God,  and  becomes  the  comfort  and 
support  of  his  parents  when  the  elder  has  failed  of  his 
duty.  And  in  the  case  of  much  that  we  hold  dear,  the 
same  rule  is  seen  ;  a  pursuit  we  wish  to  be  successful 
in  we  can  make  little  of,  and  are  thrown  back  from 
continually,  while  something  else  into  which  we  have 
thrown  ourselves  almost  accidentally  prospers  in  our 
hand  and  blesses  us.  Again  and  again,  for  years 
together,  we  put  forward  some  cherished  desire  to 
God's  right  hand,  and  are  displeased,  like  Joseph,  that 
still  the  hand  of  greater  blessing  should  pass  to  some 
other  thing.  Does  God  not  know  what  is  oldest  with 
us,  what  has  been  longest  at  our  hearts,  and  is  dearest 
to  us?  Certainly  He  dees:  "1  know  it,  My  son,  I 
know  it,"  He  answers  to  all  our  expostulations.  It  is 
not  because  He  does  not  understand  or  regard  your 
predilections,  3'Our  natural  and  excusable  preferences, 
that  He  sonietimes  refuses  to  gratify  your  whole  desire, 
and  pours  upon  you  blessings  of  a  kind  somewhat 
different  from  these  you  most  earnestly  covet.  He 
will  give  3'ou  the  whole  that  Christ  hath  merited ;  but 
for  the  application  and  distribution  of  that  grace  and 
blessing  you  must  be  content  to  trust  Him.  You  may 
be  at  a  loss  to  know  why  He  does  no  more  to  deliver 
you  from  some  sin,  or  why  He  does  not  make  you 
more  successful  in  your  efforts  to  aid  othei  s,  or  why, 
while  He  so  liberally  prospers  you  in  one  part  of  your 
condition,  j'ou  get  so  much  less  in  another  that  is  far 


Gen.  xlviii.  and  xlix.]    BLESSINGS  OF  THE  TRIBES.  425 

nearer  your  heart ;  but  God  does  what  He  will  with 
His  own,  and  if  you  do  not  find  in  cne  point  the  whole 
blessing  and  prosperity  you  think  should  flow  from 
such  a  Mediator  as  you  have,  you  may  only  conclude 
that  what  is  lacking  there  will  elsewhere  be  found 
more  wisely  bestowed.  And  is  it  not  a  perpetual 
encouragement  to  us  that  God  does  not  merely  crown 
what  nature  has  successfully  begun,  that  it  is  not  the 
likely  and  the  naturally  good  that  are  most  blessed,  but 
that  God  hath  chosen  the  foolish  things  of  the  world 
to  confound  the  wise,  and  the  weak  things  of  the 
world  to  confound  the  things  that  are  mighty ;  and 
base  things  of  the  world  and  things  which  are  despised 
hath  God  chosen,  yea,  and  things  which  are  not,  to 
bring  to  nought  things  that  are  ? 

In  Reuben,  the  first-born,  conscience  must  have 
been  sadly  at  war  with  hope  as  he  looked  at  the 
blind,  but  expressive,  face  of  his  father.  He  may  have 
hoped  that  his  sin  had  not  been  severely  thought  of 
by  his  father,  or  that  the  father's  pride  in  his  first-born 
would  prompt  him  to  hide,  though  it  could  not  make 
him  forget  it.  Probably  the  gross  offence  had  not 
been  made  known  to  the  family.  At  least,  the  words 
"  he  went  up "  may  be  understood  as  addressed  in 
explanation  to  the  brethren.  It  may  indeed  have  been 
that  the  blind  old  man,  forcibly  recalling  the  long-past 
transgression,  is  here  uttering  a  mournful,  regretful 
soliloquy,  rather  than  addressing  any  one.  It  may  be 
that  these  words  were  uttered  to  himself  as  he  went 
back  upon  the  one  deed  that  had  disclosed  to  him  his 
son's  real  character,  and  rudely  hurled  to  the  ground 
all  the  hopes  he  had  built  up  for  his  first-born.  Yet 
there  is  no  reason  to  suppose,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
the  sin  had  been  previously  known  or  alluded  to  in  the 


426  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

family.  Reuben's  hasty,  passionate  nature  could  not 
understand  that  if  Jacob  had  felt  that  sin  of  his  deeply, 
he  should  not  have  shown  his  resentment;  he  had 
stunned  his  father  with  the  heavy  blow,  and  because 
he  did  not  cry  out  and  strike  him  in  return,  he  thought 
him  little  hurt.  So  do  shallow  natures  tremble  for  a 
night  after  their  sin,  and  when  they  find  that  the  sun 
rises  and  men  greet  them  as  cordially  as  before,  and 
that  no  hand  lays  hold  on  them  from  the  past,  they  think 
little  more  of  their  sin  —  do  not  understand  that  fatal 
calm  that  precedes  the  storm.  Had  the  memory  of 
Reuben's  sin  survived  in  Jacob's  mind  all  the  sad  events 
that  had  since  happened,  and  all  the  stirring  incidents 
of  the  emigration  and  the  new  life  in  Egypt  ?  Could 
his  father  at  the  last  hour,  and  after  so  many  thronged 
years,  and  before  his  brethren,  recall  the  old  sin  ?  He 
is  relieved  and  confirmed  in  his  confidence  by  the  first 
words  of  Jacob,  words  ascribing  to  him  his  natural 
position,  a  certain  conspicuous  dignity  too,  and  power 
such  as  one  may  often  see  produced  in  men  by  occupy- 
ing positions  of  authority,  though  in  their  own  character 
there  be  weakness.  But  all  the  excellence  that  Jacob 
ascribes  to  Reuben  serves  only  to  embitter  the  doom 
pronounced  upon  him.  Men  seem  often  to  expect  that 
a  future  can  be  given  to  them  irrespective  of  what  they 
themselves  are,  that  a  series  of  blessings  and  events 
might  be  prepared  for  them,  and  made  over  to  them  ; 
v/hereas  every  man's  future  must  be  made  by  himself, 
and  is  already  in  great  part  formed  by  the  past.  It 
Avas  a  vain  expectation  of  Reuben  to  expect  that  he, 
the  impetuous,  unstable,  superficial  son,  could  have  the 
future  of  a  deep,  and  earnest,  and  dutiful  nature,  or 
that  his  children  should  derive  no  taint  from  their 
parent,  but  be   as  the  children  of  Joseph.     No  man's 


Gen.xlviii.andxiix.]     BLESSIhGS  OF  THE  TRIBES.  427 

future  need  be  altogether  a  doom  to  him,  fcr  God  may 
bless  to  him  the  evil  fruit  his  life  has  borne ;  but 
certainly  no  man  need  look  for  a  future  which  has-  no 
relation  to  his  own  character.  His  future  will  always 
be  made  up  of  his  deeds,  his  feelings,  and  the  circum- 
stances which  his  desires  have  brought  him  into. 

The  future  of  Reuben  was  of  a  negative,  blank  kind 
— "  Thou  shalt  not  excel ;  "  his  unstable  character  must 
empty  it  of  all  great  success.  And  to  many  a  heart 
since  have  these  words  struck  a  chill,  for  to  many  they 
are  as  a  mirror  suddenly  held  up  before  them.  They 
see  themselves  when  they  look  on  the  tossing  sea, 
rising  and  pointing  to  the  heavens  with  much  noise, 
but  only  to  sink  back  again  to  the  same  everlasting 
level.  Men  of  brilliant  parts  and  great  capacity  are 
continually  seen  to  be  lost  to  society  by  instability  of 
purpose.  Would  they  only  pursue  one  direction,  and 
concentrate  their  energies  on  one  subject,  they  might 
become  true  heirs  of  promise,  blessed  and  blessing ; 
but  they  seem  to  lose  relish  for  every  pursuit  on  the 
first  taste  of  success — all  their  energy  seems  to  have 
boiled  over  and  evaporated  in  the  first  glow,  and  sinks 
as  the  water  that  has  just  been  noisily  boiling  when 
the  fire  is  withdrawn  from  under  it.  No  impression 
made  upon  them  is  permanent :  like  water,  they  are 
plastic,  easily  impressible,  but  utterly  incapable  of  re- 
taining an  impression  ;  and  therefore,  like  water,  they 
have  a  downward  tendency,  or  at  the  best  are  but 
retained  in  their  place  by  pressure  from  without,  and 
have  no  eternal  power  of  growth.  And  the  misery  of 
this  character  is  6ften  increased  by  the  desire  to  excel 
which  commonly  accompanies  instability.  It  is  gene- 
rally this  very  desire  which  prompts  a  man  to  hiury 
from  one  aim  to  another,  to  j^ive  up  cne  path  to  excel- 


428  THE  BOOK  OF  GEXESIS. 

lence  when  he  sees  that  other  men  are  making  way 
upon  another  :  having  no  internal  convictions  of  his 
own,  he  is  guided  mostly  by  the  successes  of  other 
men,  the  most  dangerous  of  "all  guides.  So  that  such 
a  man  has  all  the  bitterness  of  an  eager  desire  doomed 
never  to  be  satisfied.  Conscious  to  himself  of  capacity 
fjr  something,  feeling  in  him  the  excellency  of  power, 
and  having  that  "  excellency  of  dignity,"  or  graceful 
and  princely  refinement,  which  the  knowledge  of  many 
things,  and  intercourse  with  many  kinds  of  people,  have 
imparted  to  him,  he  feels  all  the  more  that  pervading 
weakness,  that  greedy,  lustful  craving  for  all  kinds  of 
priority,  and  for  enjoying  all  the  various  advantages 
which  other  men  severally  enjoy,  which  will  not  let 
him  finally  choose  and  adhere  to  his  own  line  of  things, 
but  distracts  him  by  a  thousand  purposes  which  ever 
defeat  one  another.* 

The  sin  of  the  next  oldest  sons  was  also  remembered 
against  them,  and  remembered  apparently  for  the  same 
reason — because  the  character  was  expressed  in  it. 
The  massacre  of  the  Shechemites  was  not  an  accidental 
outrage  that  any  other  of  the  sons  of  Jacob  might 
equally  have  perpetrated,  but  the  most  glaring  of  a 
number  of  expressions  of  a  fierce  and  cruel  disposition 
in  these  two  men.  In  Jacob's  prediction  of  their 
future,  he  seems  to  shrink  with  horror  from  his  own 
progeny — like  her  who  dream.t  she  would  give  birth 
to  a  firebrand.  He  sees  the  possibility  of  the  direst 
results  flowing  from  such  a  temper,  and,  under  God, 
provides  against  these  by  scattering  the  tribes,  and 
thus  weakening  their  power  for  evil.     They  had  been 

*  Tlie  Rubseqiient  history  of  the  tribe  shows  that  the  character  of  its 
fatlier  was  transmitted.  "  No  judge,  no  prophet,  not  one  of  th?  tribe  of 
Reuben,  is  mentioned."     {Vide  Smitii's  Dictioiiaiy,  A'ai/c/i.) 


Gpii.  xlviii.  and  xlix.]    BLESSINGS  OF  THE  TFUBES.  429 

banded  together  so  as  the  more  easily  and  securely 
to  accomplish  their  murderous  purposes.  "  Simeon 
and  Levi  are  brethren  " — showing  a  close  affinity,  and 
seeking  one  another's  socie'^y  and  aid,  but  it  is  for 
bad  purposes ;  and  therefore  they  must  be  divided  in 
Jacob  and  scattered  in  Israel.  This  was  accomplished 
by  the  tribe  of  Levi  being  distributed  over  all  the  other 
tribes  as  the  ministers  of  religion.  The  fiery  zeal,  the 
bold  independence,  and  the  pride  of  being  a  distinct 
people,  which  had  been  displayed  in  the  slaughter  of 
the  Shechemites,  might  be  toned  down  and  turned 
to  good  account  when  the  sword  was  taken  out  of 
their  hand.  Qualities  such  as  these,  which  produce 
the  most  disastrous  results  when  fit  instruments  can 
be  found,  and  when  men  of  like  disposition  are  suffered 
to  band  themselves  together,  may,  when  found  in  the 
individual  and  kept  in  check  by  circumstances  and  dis- 
similar dispositions,  be  highly  beneficial. 

In  the  sin,  Levi  seems  to  have  been  the  moving 
spirit,  Simeon  the  abetting  tool,  and  in  the  punishment, 
it  is  the  more  dangerous  tribe  that  is  scattered,  so  that 
the  other  is  left  companionless.  In  the  blessings  of 
Moses,  the  tribe  of  Simieon  is  passed  over  in  silence  ; 
and  that  the  tribe  of  Levi  should  have  been  so  used 
for  God's  immediate  service  stands  as  evidence  that 
punishments,  however  severe  and  desolating,  even 
threatening  something  bordering  on  extinction,  may 
yet  become  blessings  to  God's  people.  The  sword 
of  murder  was  displaced  in  Levi's  hand  by  the  knife 
of  sacrifice ;  their  fierce  revenge  against  sinners  was 
converted  into  hostility  against  sin ;  their  apparent 
zeal  for  the  forms  of  their  religion  was  consecrated 
to  the  service  of  the  tabernacle  and  temple ;  their 
fanatical  pride,  which  prompted  them  to  treat  all  ether 


430  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

people  as  the  offscouring  of  the  earth,  was  informed 
by  a  better  spirit,  and  used  for  the  upbuilding  and 
instruction  of  the  people  of  Israel.  In  order  to  under- 
stand why  this  tribe,  of  all  others,  should  have  been 
chosen  for  the  service  of  the  sanctuary  and  for  the 
instruction  of  the  people,  we  must  not  only  recognise 
how  their  being  scattered  in  punishment  of  their  sin 
over  all  the  land  fitted  them  to  be  the  educators  of  the 
nation  and  the  representatives  of  all  the  tribes,  but 
also  we  must  consider  that  the  sin  itself  which  Levi 
had  committed  broke  the  one  command  which  men 
had  up  till  this  time  received  from  the  mouth  of  God  ; 
no  law  had  as  yet  been  published  but  that  which  had 
been  given  to  Noah  and  his  sons  regarding  bloodshed, 
and  which  was  given  in  circumstances  so  appalling, 
and  with  sanctions  so  emphatic,  that  it  might  ever 
have  rung  in  men's  ears,  and  stayed  the  hand  of  the 
murderer.  In  saying,  "  At  the  hand  of  every  man's 
brother  will  I  require  the  life  of  man,"  God  had  shown 
that  human  life  was  to  be  counted  sacred.  He  Himself 
had  swept  the  race  from  the  face  of  the  earth,  but 
adding  this  command  immediately  after,  He  showed 
all  the  more  forcibly  that  punishment  was  His  own 
prerogative,  and  that  none  but  those  appointed  by  Him 
might  shed  blood — "  Vengeance  is  Mine,  saith  the 
Lord."  To  take  private  revenge,  as  Levi  did,  was  to 
take  the  sword  out  of  God's  hand,  and  to  say  that  God 
was  not  careful  enough  of  justice,  and  but  a  poor 
guardian  of  right  and  wrong  in  the  world  ;  and  to 
destroy  human  life  in  the  wanton  and  cruel  manner 
in  which  Levi  had  destroyed  the  Shechemites,  and  to 
do  it  under  colour  and  by  the  aid  of  religious  zeal,  was 
to  God  the  most  hateful  of  sins.  But  none  can  know 
the  hatefulness   of  a  sin  so  distinctly  as  he  who  has 


Gen.  xlviil.andxiix.]     B/.ESS/XGS  OF  T./E  TRIBES.  431 

fallen  into  it,  and  is  enduring  the  punishment  of  it 
penitently  and  graciously,  and  therefore  Levi  was  of 
all  others  the  best  fitted  to  be  entrusted  with  those 
sacrificial  symbols  which  set  forth  the  value  of  all 
human  life,  and  especially  of  the  life  of  God's  own 
Son.  Very  humbling  must  it  have  been  for  the  Levite 
who  remembered  the  history  of  his  tribe  to  be  used 
by  God  as  the  hand  of  His  justice  on  the  victims  that 
were  brought  in  substitution  for  that  which  was  so 
precious  in  the  sight  of  God. 

The  blessing  of  Judah  is  at  once  the  most  important 
and  the  most  difficult  to  interpret  in  the  series.  There 
is  enough  in  the  history  of  Judah  himself,  and  there 
is  enough  in  the  subsequent  history  of  the  tribe,  to 
justify  the  ascription  to  him  of  all  lion-like  qualities — 
a  kingly  fearlessness,  confidence,  power,  and  success  ; 
in  action  a  rapidity  of  movement  and  might  that  make 
him  irresistible,  and  in  repose  a  majestic  dignity  of  bear- 
ing. As  the  serpent  is  the  cognisance  of  Dan,  the  wolf 
of  Benjamin,  the  hind  of  Naphtali,  so  is  the  lion  of  the 
tribe  of  Judah.  He  scorns  to  gain  his  end  by  a  serpen- 
tine craft,  and  is  himself  easily  taken  in  ;  he  does  not 
ravin  like  a  wolf,  merely  plundering  for  the  sake  of  booty, 
but  gives  freely  and  generously,  even  to  the  sacrifi.ce  of 
his  own  person :  nor  has  he  the  mere  graceful  and 
ineffective  swiftness  of  the  hind,  but  the  rushing  onset 
of  the  lion — a  character  which,  more  than  any  other, 
men  reverence  and  admire — "Judah,  thou  art  he  whom 
thy  brethren  shall  praise " — and  a  character  which, 
more  than  any  other,  fits  a  man  to  take  the  lead  and 
rule.  If  there  were  to  be  kings  in  Israel,  there  could 
be  little  doubt  from  which  tribe  they  could  best  be 
chosen;  a  wolf  of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin,  like  Saul,  not 
only   hung  on  the   rear  of  retreating   Philistines   and 


432  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

spoiled  them,  but  made  a  prey  of  his  own  people,  and 
it  is  in  "David  we  find  the  true  king,  the  man  who  more 
than  any  other  satisfies  men's  ideal  of  the  prince  to 
whom  they  will  pay  homage ; — falling  indeed  into 
grievous  error  and  sin,  like  his  forefather,  but,  like  him 
also,  right  at  heart,  so  generous  and  self-sacrificing  that 
men  served  him  with  the  most  devoted  loyalt}^,  and 
were  willing  rather  to  dwell  in  caves  with  him  than  in 
palaces  with  any  other. 

The  kingly  supremacy  of  Judah  was  here  spoken  of 
in  words  which  have  been  the  subject  of  as  prolonged 
and  violent  contention  as  any  others  in  the  Word  of 
God.  "The  sceptre  shall  not  depart  from  Judah,  nor 
a  lawgiver  from  between  his  feet,  until  Shiloh  come." 
These  words  are  very  generally  understood  to  m.ean 
that  Judah's  supremacy  would  continue  until  it  culmi- 
nated or  flowered  into  the  personal  reign  of  Shiloh  ; 
in  other  words,  that  Judah's  sovereignty  was  to  be 
perpetuated  in  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ.  So  that 
this  prediction  is  but  the  first  whisper  of  that  which 
was  afterwards  so  distinctly  declared,  that  David's  seed 
should  sit  on  the  throne  for  ever  and  ever.  It  was  not 
accomplished  in  the  letter,  any  more  than  the  promise 
to  David  was  ;  the  tribe  of  Judah  cannot  in  any  intelli- 
gible sense  be  said  to  have  had  rulers  of  her  own  up 
to  the  coming  of  Christ,  or  for  some  centuries  previous 
to  that  date.  For  those  who  would  quickly  judge  God 
and  His  promise  by  what  they  could  see  in  their  own 
day,  there  was  enough  to  provoke  them  to  challenge 
God  for  forgetting  His  promise.  But  in  due  time  the 
King  of  men.  He  to  whom  all  nations  have  gathered, 
did  spring  from  this  tribe ;  and  need  it  be  said  that  the 
very  fact  of  His  appearance  proved  that  the  supremacy 
had  not  departed  from  Judah  ?     This  prediction,  then, 


Gen  xlviii.andxlix.]     BLESSIXGS  Of  THE  TRIBES.  433 

partook  of  the  character  of  very  many  of  the  Old 
Testament  prophecies  ;  there  was  sufficient  fulfilment 
in  the  letter  to  seal,  as  it  were,  the  promise,  and  give 
men  a  token  that  it  was  being  accomplished,  and  yet 
so  mysterious  a  falling  short,  as  to  cause  men  to  look 
beyond  the  literal  fulfilment,  on  which  alone  their  hopes 
had  at  first  rested,  to  some  far  higher  and  more  perfect 
spiritual  fulfilment. 

But  not  only  has  it  been  objected  that  the  sceptre 
departed  from  Judah  long  before  Christ  came,  and  that 
therefore  the  word  Shiloh  cannot  refer  to  Him,  but  also 
it  has  been  truly  said  that  wherever  else  the  word 
occurs  it  is  the  name  of  a  town — that  town,  viz.,  where 
the  ark  for  a  long  time  was  stationed,  and  from  which 
the  allotment  of  territory  was  made  to  the  various 
tribes  ;  and  the  prediction  has  been  supposed  to  mean 
that  Judah  should  be  the  leading  tribe  till  the  land  was 
entered.  Many  objecdons  to  this  naturally  occur,  and 
need  not  be  stated.  But  it  comes  to  be  an  inquiry  of 
some  interest,  How  much  information  regarding  a 
personal  Messiah  did  the  brethren  receive  from  this 
prophecy?  A  question  very  difficult  indeed  to  answei . 
The  word  Shiloh  means  "  peace-making,"  and  if  they 
understood  this  as  a  proper  name,  they  must  have 
thought  of  a  person  such  as  Isaiah  designates  as  the 
Prince  of  Peace — a  name  it  was  similar  to  that  where- 
with David  called  his  son  Solomon,  in  the  expectation 
that  the  results  of  his  own  lifetime  of  disorder  and 
battle  would  be  reaped  by  his  successor  in  a  peaceful 
and  prosperous  reign.  It  can  scarcely  be  thouglit 
likely,  indeed,  that  this  single  term  "Shiloh,"  wl  ic  1 
might  be  applied  to  many  things  besides  a  person, 
should  give  to  the  sons  of  Jacob  any  distinct  id^a  of 
a  personal  Deliv'erer ;  but  it  might  be  sufficient  to  keep 

28 


434  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

before  their  e3'es,  and  specially  before  the  tribe  of 
Judah,  that  the  aim  and  consummation  of  all  lawgiving 
and  ruling  was  peace.  And  there  was  certainly  con- 
tained in  this  blessing  an  assurance  that  the  purpose 
of  Judah  would  not  be  accomplished,  and  therefore 
that  the  existence  of  Judah  as  a  tribe  would  not  termi- 
nate, until  peace  had  been  through  its  means  brought 
into  the  world  :  thus  was  the  assurance  given,  that  the 
productive  power  of  Judah  should  not  fail  until  out  of 
that  tribe  there  had  sprung  that  which  should  give 
peace. 

But  to  us  who  have  seen  the  prediction  accomplished, 
it  plainly  enough  points  to  the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of 
Judah,  who  in  His  own  person  combined  all  kingly 
qualities.  In  Himi  \n&  are  taught  by  this  prediction  to 
discover  once  more  the  single  Person  who  stands  out 
on  the  page  of  this  world's  history  as  satisfying  men's 
ideal  of  what  their  King  should  be,  and  of  how  the  race 
should  be  represented ; — the  One  who  without  any 
rival  stands  in  the  mind's  eye  as  that  for  which  the 
best  hopes  of  men  were  waiting,  still  feeling  that  the 
race  could  do  more  than  it  had  done,  and  never  satisfied 
but  in  Him. 

Zebulun,  the  sixth  and  last  of  Leah's  sons,  was  so 
called  because  said  Leah,  "Now  will  my  husband  dwell 
with  me  "  (such  being  the  meaning  of  the  name),  "  for  I 
have  borne  him  six  sons."  All  that  is  predicted  regard- 
ing this  tribe  is  that  his  dwellmg  should  be  by  the  sea, 
and  near  the  Phoenician  city  Zidon.  This  is  not  to  be 
taken  as  a  strict  geographical  definition  of  the  tract 
of  country  occupied  by  Zebulun,  as  we  see  when  we 
compare  it  with  the  lot  assigned  to  it  and  marked  out 
in  the  Book  of  Joshua;  but  though  the  border  of  the 
tribe  did  not  reach  to  Zidon,  and  though  it  can  only 


Gen.  xlviii.  and  xlix.]    BLESSINGS  OF  THE  TRIBES.  435 

have  been  a  mere  tongue  of  land  belonging  to  it  that 
ran  down  to  the  Mediterranean  shore,  yet  the  situation 
ascribed  to  it  is  true  to  its  character  as  a  tribe  that  had 
commercial  relations  with  the  Phoenicians,  and  was  of 
a  decidedly  mercantile  turn.  We  find  this  same  feature 
indicated  in  the  blessing  of  Moses  :  "  Rejoice,  Zebulun, 
in  thy  going  out,  and  Issachar  in  thy  tents  " — Zebulun 
having  the  enterprise  of  a  seafaring  community,  and 
Issachar  the  quiet  bucolic  contentment  of  an  agricul- 
tural or  pastoral  population  :  Zebulun  always  restlessly 
eager  for  emigration  or  commerce,  for  going  out  of  one 
kind  or  other  ;  Issachar  satisfied  to  live  and  die  in  his 
own  tents.  It  is  still,  therefore,  character  rather  than 
geographical  position  that  is  here  spoken  of — though 
it  is  a  trait  of  character  that  is  peculiarly  dependent 
on  geographical  position  :  we,  for  example,  because 
islanders,  having  become  the  maritime  power  and  the 
merchants  of  the  world  ;  not  being  shut  off  from  other 
nations  by  the  encompassing  sea,  but  finding  paths  by 
it  equally  in  all  directions  ready  provided  for  every 
kind  of  traffic. 

Zebulun,  then,  was  to  represent  the  commerce  of 
Israel,  its  outgoing  tendency  ;  was  to  supply  a  means 
of  communication  and  bond  of  connection  with  the 
world  outside,  so  that  through  it  might  be  conveyed  to 
the  nations  what  was  saving  in  Israel,  and  that  what 
Israel  needed  from  other  lands  might  also  find  entrance. 
In  the  Church  also,  this  is  a  needful  quality :  for  our  well- 
being  there  must  ever  exist  among  us  those  who  are  not 
afraid  to  launch  on  the  wide  and  pathless  sea  of  opinion; 
those  in  whose  ears  its  waves  have  from  their  childhood 
sounded  with  a  fascinating  invitation,  and  who  at  last, 
as  if  possessed  by  some  spirit  of  unrest,  loose  from  the 
firm  earth,  and  go  in  quest  of  lands  not  yet  discovered, 


436  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

or  are  impelled  to  see  for  themselves  what  till  now  they 
have  believed  on  the  testimony  of  others.  It  is  not  for 
all  men  to  quit  the  shore,  and  risk  themselves  in  the 
miseries  and  disasters  of  so  comfortless  and  hazardous 
a  life ;  but  happy  the  people  which  possesses,  from  one 
generation  to  another,  men  who  must  see  with  their 
own  eyes,  and  to  whose  restless  nature  the  discomforts 
and  dangers  of  an  unsettled  life  have  a  charm.  It  is 
not  the  instability  of  Reuben  that  we  have  in  these 
men,  but  the  irrepressible  longing  of  the  born  seaman, 
who  must  lift  the  misty  veil  of  the  horizon  and  penetrate 
its  mystery.  And  we  are  not  to  condemn,  even  when 
we  know  we  should  not  imitate,  men  who  cannot  rest 
satisfied  with  the  ground  on  which  we  stand,  but 
venture  into  regions  of  speculation,  of  religious  thought 
which  we  have  never  trodden,  and  may  deem  hazard- 
ous. The  nourishment  we  receive  is  not  all  native- 
grown  ;  there  are  views  of  truth  which  may  very  pro- 
fitably be  imported  from  strange  and  distant  lands ; 
and  there  is  no  land,  no  province  of  thought,  from 
which  we  may  not  derive  what  may  advantageously  be 
mixed  with  our  own  ideas ;  no  direction  in  which  a 
speculative  mind  can  go  in  which  it  may  not  find  some- 
thing which  may  give  a  fresh  zest  to  what  we  already 
use,  or  be  a  real  addition  to  our  knowledge.  No  doubt 
men  who  refuse  to  confine  themselves  to  one  way  of 
viewing  truth— men  who  venture  to  go  close  to  persons 
of  very  different  opinions  from  their  own,  who  determine 
for  themselves  to  prove  all  things,  who  have  no  very 
special  love  for  what  they  were  native  to  and  origin- 
ally taught,  who  show  rather  a  taste  for  strange  and 
new  opinions — these  persons  live  a  life  of  great  hazard, 
and  in  the  end  are  generally,  like  men  who  have  been 
much  at  sea,  unsettled ;  they  have  not  fixed  opinions, 


\ 


Gen.xlvlii.andxiix.]     BLESSINGS  OF  THE   TRIBES.  437 

and  are  in  themselves,  as  individual  men,  unsatisfactory 
and  unsatisfied  ;  but  still  they  have  done  good  to  the 
community,  by  bringing  to  us  ideas  and  knowledge 
which  otherwise  we  could  not  have  obtained.  Such 
men  God  gives  us  to  widen  our  views ;  to  prevent  us 
from  thinking  that  we  have  the  best  of  everything ;  to 
bring  us  to  acknowledge  that  others,  who  perhaps  in 
the  main  are  not  so  favoured  as  ourselves,  are  yet 
possessed  of  some  things  we  ourselves  would  be  the 
better  of.  And  though  these  men  must  themselves 
necessarily  hang  loosely,  scarcely  attached  very  firmly 
to  any  part  of  the  Church,  like  a  seafaring  population, 
and  often  even  with  a  border  running  very  close  to 
heathenism,  yet  let  us  own  that  the  Church  has  need 
of  such — that  without  them  the  different  sections  of  the 
Church  would  know  too  little  of  one  another,  and  too 
little  of  the  facts  of  this  world's  life.  And  as  the  sea- 
faring population  of  a  country  might  be  expected  to 
show  less  interest  in  the  soil  of  their  native  land  than 
others,  and  yet  we  know  that  in  point  of  fact  we  are 
dependent  on  no  class  of  our  population  so  much  for 
leal  patriotism,  and  for  the  defence  of  our  country,  so 
one  has  observed  that  the  Church  also  must  make 
similar  use  of  her  Zebuluns — of  men  who,  by  their  very 
habit  of  restlessly  considering  all  views  of  truth  which 
are  alien  to  our  own  ways  of  thinking,  have  become 
familiar  with,  and  better  able  to  defend  us  against,  the 
error  that  mingles  with  these  views. 

Issachar  receives  from  his  father  a  character  which 
few  would  be  proud  of  or  would  envy,  but  which  many 
are  very  content  to  bear.  As  the  strong  ass  that  has 
its  stall  and  its  provender  provided  can  afford  to  let  the 
free  beasts  of  the  forest  vaunt  their  liberty,  so  there  is 
a   very  numerous  class  of  men  who  have  no  care  to 


438  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

assert  their  dignity  as  human  beings,  or  to  agitate  re- 
garding their  rights  as  citizens,  so  long  as  their  obscu- 
rity and  servitude  provide  them  with  physical  comforts, 
and  leave  them  free  of  heavy  responsibilities.  They 
prefer  a  life  of  ease  and  plenty  to  a  life  of  hardship 
and  glory.  They  are  not  lazy  nor  idle,  but  are  quite 
willing  to  use  their  strength  so  long  as  they  are  not 
overdriven  out  of  their  sleekness.  They  have  neither 
ambition  nor  enterprise,  and  willingly  bow  their 
shoulders  to  bear,  and  become  the  servants  of  those 
who  will  free  them  from  the  anxiety  of  planning  and 
managing,  and  give  them  a  fair  and  regular  remunera- 
tion for  their  labour.  This  is  not  a  noble  nature,  but 
in  a  world  in  which  ambition  so  frequently  runs  through 
a  thorny  and  difficult  path  to  a  disappointing  and 
shameful  end,  this  disposition  has  much  to  say  in  its 
own  defence.  It  will  often  accredit  itself  with  unchal- 
lengeable common  sense,  and  will  maintain  that  it  alone 
enjoys  life  and  gets  the  good  of  it.  They  will  tell  you 
they  are  the  only  true  utilitarians,  that  to  be  one's  own 
master  only  brings  cares,  and  that  the  degradation  of 
servitude  is  only  an  idea ;  that  really  servants  are  quite 
as  well  off  as  masters.  Look  at  them  :  the  one  is  as  a 
strong,  powerful,  well-cared-for  animal,  his  work  but  a 
pleasant  exercise  to  him,  and  when  it  is  over  never 
following  him  into  his  rest ;  he  eats  the  good  of  the 
land,  and  has  what  all  seem  to  be  in  vain  striving  for, 
rest  and  contentment :  the  other,  the  master,  has  indeed 
his  position,  but  that  only  multiplies  his  duties  ;  he  has 
wealth,  but  that  proverbially  only  increases  his  cares 
and  the  mouths  that  are  to  consume  it ;  it  is  he  who 
has  the  air  of  a  bondsman,  and  never,  meet  him  when 
you  may,  seems  wholly  at  ease  and  free  from  care. 
Yet,  after  all  that  can  be  sai  ^  in  favour  of  the  bargain 


Gen.xlviii.andxlix.]    BLESSINGS  OF  THE  TRIBES.  439 

an  Issachar  makes,  and  however  he  may  be  satisfied  to 
rest,  and  in  a  quiet,  peaceful  v.-ay  enjoy  hfe,  men  feel 
that  at  the  best  there  is  something  despicable  about 
such  a  character.  He  gives  his  labour  and  is  fed,  he 
pays  his  tribute  and  is  protected  ;  but  men  feel  that 
they  ought  to  meet  the  dangers,  responsibilities,  and 
difficulties  of  life  in  their  own  persons,  and  at  first 
hand,  and  not  buy  themselves  off  so  from  the  burden 
of  individual  self-control  and  responsibility.  The 
animal  enjoyment  of  this  life  and  its  physical  comforts 
may  be  a  very  good  ingredient  in  a  national  cha- 
racter: it  might  be  well  for  Israel  to  have  this  patient, 
docile  mass  of  strength  in  its  midst  :  it  may  be  well 
for  our  country  that  there  are  among  us  not  only 
men  eager  for  the  highest  honours  and  posts,  but  a 
great  multitude  of  men  perhaps  equally  serviceable  and 
capable,  but  whose  desires  never  rise  beyond  the 
ordinary  social  comforts  ;  the  contentedness  of  such, 
even  though  reprehensible,  tempers  or  balances  the 
ambition  of  the  others,  and  when  it  conies  into  personal 
contact  rebukes  its  feverishness.  They,  as  well  as  the 
other  parts  of  society,  have  amidst  their  error  a  truth — 
the  truth  that  the  ideal  world  in  which  ambition,  and 
hope,  and  imagination  live  is  not  everything ;  that  the 
material  has  also  a  reality,  and  that  though  hope  does 
bless  mankind,  yet  attainment  is  also  something,  even 
though  it  be  a  little.  Yet  this  truth  is  not  the  whole 
truth,  and  is  only  useful  as  an  ingredient,  as  a  part, 
not  as  the  whole  ;  and  when  we  fall  from  any  high 
ideal  of  human  life  which  we  have  formed,  and  begin 
to  find  comfort  and  rest  in  the  mere  physical  good 
things  of  this  world,  we  may  well  despise  ourselves. 
There  is  a  pleasantness  still  in  the  land  that  appeals  to 
us  all ;  a  luxury  in  observing  the  risks  and  struggles  of 


440  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

others  while  ourselves  secure  and  at  rest ;  a  desire  to 
make  life  easy,  and  to  shirk  the  responsibility  and  toil 
that  public-spiritedness  entails.  Yet  of  what  tribe  has 
the  Church  more  cause  to  complain  than  of  those 
persons  who  seem  to  imagine  that  they  have  done 
enough  when  they  have  joined  the  Church  and  received 
their  own  inheritance  to  enjoy ;  who  are  alive  to  no 
emergency,  nor  awake  to  the  need  of  others  ;  who  have 
no  idea  at  all  of  their  being  a  part  of  the  community,  for 
which,  as  well  as  for  themselves,  there  are  duties  to 
discharge ;  who  couch,  like  the  ass  of  Issachar,  in  their 
comfort  without  one  generous  impulse  to  make  common 
cause  against  the  common  evils  and  foes  of  the  Church, 
and  are  unvisited  by  a  single  compunction  that  while 
they  lie  there,  submitting  to  whatever  fate  sends,  there 
are  kindred  tribes  of  their  own  being  oppressed  and 
spoiled  ? 

There  seems  to  have  been  an  improvement  in  this 
tribe,  an  infusion  of  some  new  life  into  it.  In  the 
time  of  Deborah,  indeed,  it  is  with  a  note  of  surprise 
that,  while  celebrating  the  victory  of  Israel,  she  names 
even  Issachar  as  having  been  roused  to  action,  and  as 
having  helped  in  the  common  cause — "  the  princes  of 
Issachar  were  with  Deborah,  even  Issachar ; "  but  we 
find  them  again  in  the  days  of  David  wiping  out  their 
reproach,  and  standing  by  him  manfully.  And  there 
an  apparently  new  character  is  given  to  them — "the 
children  of  Issachar,  which  were  men  that  had  under- 
standing of  the  times,  to  know  what  Israel  ought  to 
do."  This  quite  accords,  however,  with  the  kind  of 
practical  philosophy  which  we  have  seen  to  be  imbedded 
in  Issachar's  character.  Men  they  were  not  distracted 
by  high  thoughts  and  ambitions,  but  who  judged  things 
according  to  their  substantial  value  to  themselves ;  and 


Gen.xlviii.  andxlix.]    BLESSINGS  OF  THE  TRIBES.  441 

who  were,  therefore,  in  a  position  to  give  much  good 
advice  on  practical  matters — advice  which  would  always 
have  a  tendency  to  trend  too  much  towards  mere  utili- 
tarianism and  worldliness,  and  to  partake  rather  of 
crafty  politic  diplomacy  than  of  far-seeing  statesman- 
ship, yet  trustworthy  for  a  certain  class  of  subjects. 
And  here,  too,  they  represent  the  same  class  in  the 
Church,  already  alluded  to ;  for  one  often  finds  that 
men  who  will  not  interrupt  their  own  comfort,  and 
who  have  a  kind  of  stolid  indifference  as  to  what  comes 
of  the  good  of  the  Church,  have  yet  also  much  shrewd 
practical  wisdom ;  and  were  these  men,  instead  of 
spending  their  sagacity  in  cynical  denunciation  of  what 
the  Church  does,  to  throw  themselves  into  the  cause 
of  the  Church,  and  heartily  advise  her  what  she  ought 
to  do,  and  help  in  the  doing  of  it,  their  observation  of 
human  affairs,  and  political  understanding  of  the  times, 
would  be  turned  to  good  account,  instead  of  being  a 
reproach. 

Next  came  the  eldest  son  of  Rachel's  handmaid,  and 
the  eldest  son  of  Leah's  handmaid,  Dan  and  Gad. 
Dan's  name,  meaning  "judge,"  is  the  starting  point  of 
the  prediction — "Dan  shall  judge  his  people."  This 
word  "judge"  we  are  perhaps  somewhat  apt  to  mis- 
apprehend ;  it  means  rather  to  defend  than  to  sit  in 
judgment  on  ;  it  refers  to  a  judgment  passed  between 
one's  own  people  and  their  foes,  and  an  execution  of 
such  judgment  in  the  deliverance  of  the  people  and  the 
destruction  of  the  foe.  We  are  familiar  with  this 
meaning  of  the  word  by  the  constant  reference  in  the 
Old  Testament  to  God^s  judging  His  people;  this  being 
always  a  cause  of  joy  as  their  sure  deliverance  from 
their  enemies.  So  also  it  is  used  of  those  men  who, 
when  Israel  had  no  king,  rose  from  time  to  time  as  the 


442  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

champions  of  the  people,  to  lead  them  against  the  foe 
and  who  are  therefore  familiarly  called  "The  Judges. 
From  the  tribe  of  Dan  the  most  conspicuous  of  thest 
arose,  Samson,  namely,  and  it  is  probably  mainly  with 
reference  to  this  fact  that  Jacob  so  emphatically  pre^ 
diets  oi  this  tribe,  "Dan  shall  judge  his  people."  And 
notice  the  appended  clause  (as  reflecting  shame  on  the 
sluggish  Issachar),  "  as  one  of  the  tribes  of  Israel," 
recognising  always  that  his  strength  was  not  for 
himself  alone,  but  for  his  country  ;  that  he  was  not 
an  isolated  people  who  had  to  concern  himself  only 
with  his  own  affairs,  but  one  of  the  tribes  of  Israel. 
The  manner,  too,  in  which  Dan  was  to  do  this  was 
singularly  descriptive  of  the  facts  subsequently  evolved. 
Dan  was  a  very  small  and  insignificant  tribe,  whose 
lot  originally  lay  close  to  the  Philistines  on  the 
southern  border  of  the  land.  It  might  seem  to  be 
no  obstacle  whatever  to  the  invading  Philistines  as 
they  passed  to  the  richer  portion  of  Judah,  but  this 
little  tribe,  through  Samson,  smote  these  terrors  of  the 
Israelites  with  so  sore  and  alarming  a  destruction  as 
to  cripple  them  for  years  and  make  them  harmless. 
We  see^  therefore,  how  aptly  Jacob  compares  them  to 
the  venomous  snake  that  lurks  in  the  road  and  bites 
the  horses'  heels ;  the  dust- coloured  adder  that  a  man 
treads  on  before  he  is  aware,  and  whose  poisonous 
stroke  is  more  deadly  than  the  foe  he  is  looking  for 
in  front.  And  especially  significant  did  the  imagery 
appear  to  the  Jews,  with  whom  this  poisonous  adder 
was  indigenous,  but  to  whom  the  horse  was  the  symbol 
of  foreign  armament  and  invasion.  The  whole  tribe 
of  Dan,  too,  seems  to  have  partaken  of  that  "  grim 
humour  "  with  which  Samson  saw  his  foes  walk  time 
after   time  into  the  traps  he   set  for  them,  and  give 


Gen.  xlviii.  and  xlix.]     BLESShVGS  Of  THE  TRIBES.  443 

themselves  an  easy  prey  to  him — a  humour  which 
comes  out  with  singular  piquancy  in  the  narrative  given 
in  the  Book  of  Judges  of  one  of  the  forays  of  this  tribe, 
in  which  they  carried  off  Micah's  priest  and  even  his 
gods. 

But  why,  in  the  full  flow  of  his  eloquent  description 
of  the  varied  virtues  of  his  sons,  does  the  patriarch 
suddenly  check  himself,  lie  back  on  his  pillows,  and 
quietly  say,  "  I  have  waited  for  Thy  salvation,  O  God  "  ? 
Does  he  feel  his  strength  leave  him  so  that  he  cannot 
go  on  to  bless  the  rest  of  his  sons,  and  has  but  time 
to  yield  his  own  spirit  to  God  ?  Are  we  here  to 
interpolate  one  of  those  scenes  we  are  all  fated  to 
witness  when  some  eagerly  watched  breath  seems 
altogether  to  fail  before  tlie  last  words  have  been 
uttered,  when  those  who  have  been  standing  apart, 
through  sorrow  and  reverence,  quickly  gather  round 
the  bed  to  catch  the  last  look,  and  when  the  dying  man 
again  collects  himself  and  finishes  his  work  ?  Probably 
Jacob,  having,  as  it  were,  projected  himself  forward 
into  those  stirring  and  warlike  times  he  has  been 
speaking  of,  so  realises  the  danger  of  his  people,  and 
the  futility  even  of  such  help  as  Dan's  when  God  does 
not  help,  that,  as  if  from  the  midst  of  doubtful  war,  he 
cries,  as  with  a  battle  cry,  "  I  have  waited  for  Thy 
salvation,  O  God."  Tlis  longing  for  victory  and 
blessing  to  his  sons  far  overshot  the  deliverance  from 
Philistines  accomplished  by  Samson,  That  deliverance 
he  thankfully  accepts  and  joy  filly  predicts,  but  in  the 
spirit  of  an  Israelite  indeed,  and  a  genuine  child  of  the 
promise,  he  remains  unsatisfied,  and  sees  in  all  such 
deliverance  only  the  pledge  of  God's  coming  nearer 
and  nearer  to  His  people,  bringing  with  llim  His 
eternal  salvation.     In  Dan,  therefore,  we  have  not  the 


444  THE  BOOK  OF  GENESIS. 

catholic  spirit  of  Zebulun,  nor  the  practical,  though 
sluggish,  temper  of  Issachar  ;  but  we  are  guided  rather 
to  the  disposition  which  ought  to  be  maintained  through 
all  Christian  life,  and  which,  with  special  care,  needs 
to  be  cherished  in  Church-life — a  disposition  to  accept 
with  gratitude  all  success  and  triumph,  but  still  to  aim 
through  all  at  that  highest  victory  which  God  alone 
can  accomplish  for  His  people.  It  is  to  be  the  battle- 
cry  with  which  every  Christian  and  every  Church  is 
to  preserve  itself,  not  merely  against  external  foes,  but 
against  the  far  more  disastrous  influence  of  self- 
confidence,  pride,  and  glorying  in  man — "  For  Thy 
salvation,  O   God,  do  we  wait." 

Gad  also  is  a  tribe  whose  history  is  to  be  warlike, 
his  very  name  signifying  a  marauding,  guerilla  troop  ; 
and  his  history  was  to  illustrate  the  victories  which 
God's  people  gain  by  tenacious,  watchful,  ever-renewed 
warfare.  The  Church  has  often  prospered  by  her 
Dan-like  insignificance ;  the  world  not  troubling  itself 
to  make  war  upon  her.  But  oftener  Gad  is  a  better 
representative  of  the  mode  in  which  her  successes  are 
gained.  We  find  that  the  men  of  Gad  were  among  the 
most  valuable  of  David's  warriors,  when  his  necessity 
evoked  all  the  various  skill  and  energy  of  Israel.  "  Of 
the  Gadites,"  we  read,  "  there  separated  themselves 
unto  David  into  the  hold  of  the  wilderness  men  of 
might,  and  men  of  war  fit  for  the  battle,  that  could 
handle  shield  and  buckler,  whose  faces  wsre  like  the 
faces  of  lions,  and  were  as  swift  as  the  roes  upon  the 
mountains  :  one  of  the  least  of  them  was  better  than  an 
hundred,  and  the  greatest  mightier  than  a  thousand." 
And  there  is  something  particularly  inspiriting  to  the 
individual  Christian  in  finding  this  pronounced  as  part 
of  the  blessing  of  God's  people — "  a  troop  shall  over- 


oen.xlvlii.nndxlix.]     BLESSINGS  OF  THE  TRIBES.  445 

come  him,  but  he  shall  overcome  at  the  last."  It  is  this 
that  enables  us  to  persevere — that  we  have  God's 
assurance  that  present  discomfiture  does  not  doom 
us  to  final  defeat.  If  you  be^  among  the  children  of 
promise,  among  those  that  gather  round  God  to  catcli 
His  blessing,  you  shall  overcome  at  the  last.  You  may 
now  feel  as  if  assaulted  by  treacherous,  murderous 
foes,  irregular  troops,  that  betake  themselves  to  every 
cruel  deceit,  and  are  ruthless  in  spoiling  you  ;  you  may 
be  assailed  by  so  many  and  strange  temptations  that 
you  are  bewildered  and  cannot  lift  a  hand  to  resist, 
scarce  seeing  where  3'our  danger  comes  from ;  you 
may  be  buffeted  by  messengers  of  Satan,  distracted  by 
a  sudden  and  tumultuous  incursion  of  a  crowd  of  cares 
so  that  you  are  moved  away  from  the  old  habits  of 
your  life  amid  which  you  seem  to  stand  safely ;  your 
heart  may  seem  to  be  the  rendezvous  of  all  ungodly 
and  wicked  thoughts,  you  may  feel  trodden  under  foot 
and  overrun  by  sin,  but,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  you 
shall  overcome  at  the  last.  Only  cultivate  that  dogged 
pertinacity  of  Gad,  which  has  no  thought  of  ultimate 
defeat,  but  rallies  cheerfully  and  resolutel}'  after  every 
discomfiture.  P 


165 


Date  Due 


